


Bloodline

by Virus138



Series: Hyndestane Kings Never Die [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Academy, Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Affection, Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, BFFs, Blow Jobs, Boarding School, Boy Squad, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Brothels, Claiming, Claiming Bites, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Dominance, Drunken Kissing, Dubcon Kissing, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Roller Coaster, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Everyone Is Gay, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Family, Family Feels, Fantasy, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Forced Marriage, Forehead Kisses, Fpreg, French Kissing, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Gay, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, Hand Jobs, Hate Sex, Hate to Love, Historical Fantasy, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Idiots in Love, Kidnapping, Kings & Queens, Kissing, Language Barrier, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, Love/Hate, M/M, Mates, Mating, Mating Bond, Mildly Dubious Consent, Moaning, Mpreg, Neck Kissing, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Nudity, OT3, Obedience, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Partners in Crime, Pining, Plague, Porn With Plot, Power Bottom, Raising children, Rapunzel Elements, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Secret Identity, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sexual Tension, Shapeshifting, Slave Trade, Sleepy Cuddles, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Small Towns, Smut, Soulmates, Squad, Stockholm Syndrome, Sweet, Teacher-Student Relationship, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, True Mates, Wedding Night, Weddings, Werewolf Mates, Witches, Wrestling, Yaoi, male pocahontas, male rapunzel, tribes, witch academy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 84,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22164760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Virus138/pseuds/Virus138
Summary: The witch hunts are over. Khandar has been settled and brides are sent to meet their husbands for the first time. Amongst them is Sharian, a young man running away from his past, hoping to hide in the arms of a man he has never met. Unfortunately, that man is Jhaan Leake, a drunkard who does not think much of love. But with the ships comes more danger and a gorgeous Khandarian fire-dancer finds himself seeking help from one of the settlers.In a faraway tower, a monster boy is locked away. Vaeril, his captor, just wants to keep him safe. But as Elisen demands to be taught love, Vaeril finds it impossible to stay away. Unknown to both, a group of witch academy students have mounted a rescue mission.In the Moher Mountains, the bandits are faced with a tribe of pale-haired foreigners. A young bandit is told to choose anyone for his bride - he chooses Aza, a stunningly beautiful bard with a deadly secret.In Arnheim, a warrior is being forced to wed a Kai prince against his will - but he'll be damned if he lets it happen.And in the East, a deadly storm is brewing, threatening them all...
Series: Hyndestane Kings Never Die [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/922260
Comments: 49
Kudos: 75





	1. City Underground

**Author's Note:**

> What's poppin' kids!!  
> WELCOME all new arrivals - I hope you guys enjoy the story!! It's going to be full of twists, turns and glorious smut so buckle up!! (This can easily be read as a stand-alone, by the way!)  
> HELLO to all my old readers! Thank you so much to all who are still sticking by me for the fifth installment of Hyndestane Kings Never Die! This one will be much less dark than Sanctuary and I hope you all enjoy!! 
> 
> As always, let me know who your favourite couple is!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's poppin' kids!!  
> WELCOME all new arrivals - I hope you guys enjoy the story!! It's going to be full of twists, turns and glorious smut so buckle up!! (This can easily be read as a stand-alone, by the way!)  
> HELLO to all my old readers! Thank you so much to all who are still sticking by me for the fifth installment of Hyndestane Kings Never Die! This one will be much less dark than Sanctuary and I hope you all enjoy!! 
> 
> As always, let me know who your favourite couple is!!!

Elisen opened the curtains of his window to let in the early-morning autumn sun. He smiled, leaning his forearms on the balustrade as he gazed out at Rhein. There wasn’t much to look at but in his eighteen years of being alive, Eli had learned to treasure the small things, like the way the sunlight reflected off a puddle beneath the tower or the way...the way the...Elisen sighed. Truly, the sunlight in the puddle was the only thing he could think of in that moment. From his room in the tower, impossibly high up, he could see the land stretching out before him and it was _ghastly_. Gnarled, barren trees that had never seen leaf nor fruit; sun-dried grass that withered away even in spring; a slushing brown-grey river in the distance, cutting through the feet of rocky hills...death and decay wherever he looked, except in his tower.

‘’Good morning, ugly world,’’ Elisen sighed, putting his arm out in front of him, his fingers splayed, ‘’will today be the day I brave your treacherous land?’’ As if in response, suddenly, a blue bird landed on Elisen’s finger. Elisen gasped and nearly fell over with shock. He laughed, astounded, ‘’where did you come from?’’ he asked, careful not to move his finger. There! The sunlight glinting off the puddle beneath the tower and the bird on his finger. Small things. Good things. The bird hopped on Eli’s finger, its legs delicate. Elisen smiled at it dreamily. What a pretty thing. It was a wonder it survived in this drab, dead land. Too quickly, its wings fluttered and it flew away. Elisen sighed, leaning as far as he could out of the window as if he could follow it. But he had no blue wings; only a white braid that swung against his chest as he set himself back inside.

‘’Are you going to mope around all day or are you going to open the doors!?’’ came an irritated call from the foot of the tower.

Elisen nearly jumped out of his skin, ‘’one second!’’ he called, running across the room. It was a huge space, with a massive bed, rows upon rows of books on magic, a potion-making corner, a corner for reading...everything pretty and perfect, unlike the outside world. Elisen jumped over a floor cushion and reached the wood-and-metal mechanism just outside his door, in the cramped corridor leading to the bathing room and the cooking area. He yanked on the wooden lever and the doors at the foot of the tower opened. Eli stood in the corridor, waiting. He could hear the various locks and latches being undone throughout the tower – safety precautions keeping the monsters out. When his visitor, a young witch, finally walked in through the doors, Eli greeted him with a bright smile, ‘’good morning, Vaeril.’’

Vaeril pulled his hood off, shaking out his pitch-black curls, then pushing them back with a light brown hand, ‘’you know what time I come,’’ he snapped, ‘’can’t you be ready to open the doors?’’

‘’I saw a bird today,’’ Elisen chirped as Vaeril walked past him in the cramped space, to the kitchen.

‘’You’re lucky it didn’t peck out your eyes. Vicious things,’’ Vaeril grumbled. He walked into the kitchen and set down his basket of provisions.

Elisen followed him, ‘’it didn’t look bad at all! It was all blue and-‘’

‘’If you have time to be daydreaming about birds,’’ Vaeril grabbed a stack of heavy books and put them in Eli’s arms. Eli bucked under the weight, ‘’you have time to read these.’’

‘’What?’’ Elisen whined, hefting the books up, ‘’all of these!?’’

‘’Your magic is terrible,’’ Vaeril began pulling out jars of preserves, loaves of bread and hunks of cheese, ‘’you should be practicing any time you have a moment.’’

‘’I only just woke up,’’ Elisen grumbled, leaving the kitchen and going to his bedroom. He set the books down in the library as Vaeril went in after him.

‘’Alright, show me what you’ve got,’’ Vaeril took off his cloak, hanging it on the peg, revealing his lightly muscled body beneath his tunic. He crossed his arms over his chest.

Elisen rubbed the back of his white hair, troubled, ‘’n-now?’’

‘’Yes. Now,’’ Vaeril’s eyes – one pitch black, the other blood red – challenged him.

Elisen gulped. He was an earth Elementalist but his magic was hard to control and kind of useless. Vaeril had recently been teaching him how to do useful stuff – like control flame. Elisen fetched one of his candles. With a wave of his hand, Vaeril set it on fire. Elisen took a deep breath, extended his hand out and concentrated. He wanted the flame to go out but he hadn’t practiced and now, under Vaeril’s scrutinising gaze, he was nervous as the seven hells. His hands shook slightly. After a painful minute, Vaeril groaned and waved a hand in the air. A gust of wind blew the candle out and Elisen dropped it in his surprise, ‘’useless,’’ Vaeril snapped.

‘’I-I practiced,’’ Elisen squeaked unconvincingly.

‘’Did you?’’ Vaeril took a threatening step towards him, his eyes blazing, ‘’you need to know these thing, Elisen. You said you want to go out there with me,’’ he pointed to the tower window, ‘’but how can you when you can’t protect yourself? There’s things out there! Things you can’t even comprehend! Beasts and witches and diseased creatures that will rip you to shreds!’’

Elisen paled, ‘’I-I know, Vae-‘’

‘’And you’re a _monster_! You can’t just-‘’

Elisen flinched and Vaeril knew he’d crossed the line. He shut his mouth quickly and a heavy silence descended. Elisen stared at his feet, blinking back tears. Vaeril sighed, running a hand down his face, ‘’I’m sorry,’’ he said quietly, ‘’you know I didn’t mean that. I don’t think you’re a monster.’’

‘’But others will,’’ Eli whispered.

Vae sighed again and went to him, putting a hand atop his head. He stroked down, tucking a piece of hair behind Elisen’s ear, ‘’yes,’’ he said quietly, ‘’human are cruel like that. They’d kill you for just being a witch, much less when you are...’’ he trailed off, tucking a finger beneath Elisen’s chin and tilting his head up, ‘’I’m sorry,’’ he said again, quieter.

Elisen smiled and put his hand on Vae’s wrist. Eli had known him all his life – he was the _only_ person Eli knew. Vaeril had found him in the rubble of what was left of Rhein after the plague. He’d taken him from there and raised him in this tower. The strange thing about Vaeril – amongst the many strange things about him – was that he never seemed to age. He always appeared as a young man, twenty or so years old. Elisen would have believed that was how all witches were except he himself aged. He was an adult now, too. And from the time he could remember to now, he could count on two hands how many times Vaeril showed him affection. The witch was a stern and demanding teacher but even so, over the year, Elisen came to think of him as a friend – and as a saviour. He went out into that unforgiving world so Elisen wouldn’t have to, until he was ready. Until he was powerful enough to protect himself if something happened to Vae, ‘’its fine,’’ Eli said softly.

Vae patted his cheek and withdrew his hand. Elisen felt guilty for missing his touch. For a while now, he’d been craving affection whenever Vaeril would give it but he didn’t know how to ask for more, ‘’do you want to go for a run?’’

Eli nodded. He and Vaeril went downstairs. There were two sets of stairs in the tower. One led outside and was heavily barricaded. That was the one Vae used. It had twelve doors and winding staircases that Eli swore he heard moving sometimes. Each door had a different padlock, chain or locking mechanism on it. There were traps if you weren’t careful. It was all to make sure the tower was safe. The other set of stairs led below the tower, to the basement. Elisen had never stepped foot outside but he was in the basement nearly every day.

The basement was a labyrinth.

Vaeril had built it when Eli had been five or so and Elisen used it constantly. He jogged down the stairs and stripped in record time. By the time Vae walked in, Elisen was gone – in his place stood a white wolf, ‘’go on,’’ Vae said.

Eli took off running, disappearing inside the labyrinth. For the better part of the two hours, Vaeril sat at the entrance of the labyrinth, tossing a blue flame between his fingers to occupy himself, and thinking. He was always thinking. Once in a while, Elisen would emerge from the labyrinth and Vaeril would order, ‘’again.’’ He was building up the wolf’s stamina and perception. Finally, the exhausted wolf came to sit by Vae’s feet, tongue lolling out. Vaeril couldn’t help but chuckle, ‘’good. You can change back now.’’

Elisen just whimpered, low at the back of his throat.

‘’Go on,’’ Vaeril prompted, fetching his clothes from the ground and extending them to the boy.

Slower than usual, Elisen’s fur grew back into pale skin. The boy covered himself with his arms, blushing, ‘’y-you don’t have to stare,’’ he grumbled.

Vaeril rolled his eyes, ‘’I changed your bed-sheets when you wet yourself at night as a child,’’ he reminded him pointedly.

Eli went an even darker red, ‘’w-well, I’m not a child anymore,’’ he gave Vae a rare glare, his double coloured eyes – one yellow, the other light green – swimming with an emotion Vaeril could not pin-point, ‘’I’m a man now.’’

Vae couldn’t help but chuckle at this rare display of defiance. It was kind of cute. Eli snatched the clothes off him and dressed himself quickly. When he was done, Vae patted his head, surprising Eli with a second show of affection in one day, ‘’I’m sorry for the monster comment. I really am. I didn’t mean it. It wasn’t true.’’

Elisen smiled at him, ‘’it’s alright. I know you didn’t.’’

Vae nodded, taking his hand away. Eli instantly missed it, ‘’be good and study your magic. I’ll see you tomorrow.’’

He turned to go. Before he could stop himself, Eli blurted, ‘’how come you get to go outside?’’

Vae looked at him over his shoulder, his red eyes dark, ‘’because I know how to not get killed.’’

Then Vaeril was gone and Elisen was alone...as always.

*~*~*

Prince Faelan Eiris did not have a mirror in his room. None of the Arhanese warriors did. Looks were not on their priority list. Even so Fae’s father, Airen, fussed over him. He’d tied Fae’s pale brown hair with a new ribbon and he’d made him wear his best clothes – a black tunic with silver buckles and matching pants, ‘’is it truly a _ball_?’’ Fae asked, wrinkling his nose a little at the notion.

‘’Yes,’’ Airen said sternly.

‘’With,’’ Faelan twirled a finger in the air, ‘’dancing?’’

‘’Yes, dancing,’’ Airen’s movements as he straightened Fae’s clothing were rough and pointed. Airen wasn’t in the greatest of moods. The visitors arriving for the ball stressed him out more than anyone else, ‘’it is what we did in Old Yame.’’

‘’Yes, well, I don’t know how to dance,’’ Faelan sighed, ‘’it’s pointless.’’

‘’It’s not,’’ Airen grabbed his first-borns face and gave him a stern look, ‘’he _will_ be your husband and you _will_ act respectfully and politely,’’ he sighed and stepped back, assessing his son critically, ‘’we need Hailbronn more than they need us. They can get weapons anywhere. Mutzre. Sahr. We need their harvests, though. They are the closest by a mile,’’ his eyes softened just a tad, ‘’so you will do everything the prince of Hailbronn wants you to do and you will secure this alliance.’’

Airen crossed his arms over his chest, ‘’I should have been King,’’ he grumbled.

‘’You are twenty five. Don’t mope,’’ Airen chastised. He flipped his long ponytail, identical to Faelan’s, over his shoulder, ‘’are you ready?’’

‘’As ready as I’ll ever be to meet that pain in the ass,’’ Faelan said and together, they left his bedchambers.

It was evening and there was a ball going on downstairs. Arnheim didn’t throw _balls_. They had state dinners and maybe a banquet or two. But as Prince Thorn’s bride, Faelan would be expected to go back to Kainan with him. There was an abundance of balls there. He’d have to get used to them. Fae shuddered just thinking about it. He was a cold, northern warrior. When he’d been a child and he met Prince Thorn – a small, younger, sobbing boy – he’d never thought he’d actually be made to marry that cry-baby. Fae had been seventeen and Thorn sixteen when they last met. It had been a meeting full of avoiding each other and glaring at each other across furniture. Every year before that they met, and every year they fought and Fae made Thorn cry and Thorn drove Fae nuts, all throughout childhood. Fae remembered Thorn as a short, impossibly skinny boy back then. A child. A wimp. Not well suited for him. But now Faelan was expected to _submit_ to _him_ , after eight years of not seeing each other – after eight years in which Faelan dared to hope the stupid engagement was off. The whole thing made him want to vomit in the nearest bushes.

Faelan smoothed his hand down his jacket as they walked, to have something to do with his hands so he wouldn’t punch a wall. There was music filtering from downstairs. _Music_. Faelan cringed. He knew there was no point in begging not to go. He’d done that enough as he grew up. He and his father descended the stairs and Airen stopped him right in front of the dining hall – which was now, apparently, a ballroom. He put his pale hands on Fae’s face in a rare display of love that Faelan knew his father brimmed with, but was careful to show, like all Arhanese parents, ‘’please don’t anger him,’’ Airen said gently, ‘’be polite and mannered. Make him like you. Kainan is not very far away – you won’t lose Arnheim as your home. So please, just...’’ Airen’s voice trembled and Faelan knew that it hurt to know he was sending his son away.

‘’Father,’’ Faelan gave him a quick, reassuring hug – a rarity for both of them, ‘’I’ll do my best,’’ he promised, even though he’d already sworn in his head to do anything it took to call the engagement off.

Faelan entered the dining hall first, with Airen walking behind him.

A hush fell over the room. The music stopped playing, thankfully. Faelan couldn’t stand its grating on his ears. King Daran Eiris of Arnheim stood with Faelan’s three brothers – twenty-two year old Darmor, who would be King in his stead, sixteen year old, golden-haired Ailas and nine year old Guthale – and a small delegation from Hailbronn. Fae refused to look, staring somewhere beyond them as he approached, back straight, arms folded behind his back. The posture of a soldier, ‘’Faelan,’’ Daran said to his son, ‘’this is Prince Thorn Hyndestane.’’

Faelan wished he didn’t have to look but from the corner of his eye he saw one of the men peel himself away from the delegation and walk towards him. Aware that every soul in the room was looking at them, Faelan finally lowered his sharp-shaped, pale blue eyes and looked at the fiancé he hadn’t seen in eight long, blissful years.

He was rendered speechless with shock.

In Fae’s head, Thorn Hyndestane was still that lanky child that burst into tears at any small inconvenience. In his head, Thorn Hyndestane still couldn’t take a hit. In his head, Thorn Hyndestane was an immature weakling. In his head, Thorn Hyndestane was not worthy of a warrior of Arnheim.

But Thorn Hyndestane had grown into a man, and Fae didn’t know what to think.

Thorn approached and he seemed so unfamiliar and familiar at the same time. His skin was still a strange, light brown that was not seen in Arnheim; his hair was still pitch black and his eyes were still their weird, startling Hyndestane blue. But where Thorn had been lanky and short the last time Fae saw him, he now stood tall and _huge_. Fae had no idea where he put on all that muscle. He was broad and powerful, like the best of Arhanese warriors – Faelan feared he’d tower over him, thwarting his new husband. His black hair was long-ish, reaching the nape of his neck and pushed back charmingly from his face. His strong jaw was covered with a light stubble. There was a golden sword strapped across his back, as magnificent as the man.

Faelan clenched his hands into fists. Was Thorn trying to imitate an Arhanese warrior? He oozed power and confidence. When had this happened. Fae hated to think that now, maybe, Thorn could take on one of their soldiers. It was disgusting. It was astounding. It...it made Faelan feel _shy_.

‘’Prince Thorn,’’ he managed, glad his voice didn’t shake.

‘’Prince Faelan,’’ Thorn stopped before him, his blue eyes sweeping his fiancé up and down. Something twinkled in his eyes and he gave a half-smile, extending his brown hand out, ‘’would you like to dance?’’

Of course Faelan wouldn’t but he couldn’t refuse. He looked down. The scar he’d given Thorn – on the pad of this thumb, when he’d pushed a seven year old Thorn out of a barren tree – was still there, paler than his skin. There were many more now. When Faelan slipped his hand into Thorn’s, he felt the scrape of his calluses. Somehow, that made him think a tad more of Thorn. A person with no calluses was not worth knowing. People with delicate hands couldn’t protect anyone and had not known hard work in their life.

The music picked up again from a small band of Kai musicians situated in the corner as Faelan was led into the centre of the room. Tables ran the length of it in a square and usually nothing happened in the middle. Now, Fae was expected to dance for the first time in his life. To cover his uncertainty and embarrassment, he hissed at Thorn under his breath, ‘’you’re still a gods-damned crybaby.’’

Thorn was still half smiling as he drew Faelan to him, ‘’and you’re still insufferable, I see,’’ he put an arm around Faelan’s waist and grasped his other one. Fae had no choice but to rest his other hand on Thorn’s forearm as the prince leaned in a little closer. His eyes twinkled again, ‘’though I’m pleased to see that you have become _pretty_.’’ Faelan gasped. How dare he! He jerked the hand Thorn was holding, about to draw it back and punch Thorn in the face, in front of everyone. To his surprise, he couldn’t. Thorn grasped his hand tighter in his own, so hard Faelan felt a shoot of pain go up his arm. He couldn’t yank his hand free and Thorn leaned in again as he began leading Faelan in the dance, ‘’careful, highness. We have appearances to put up.’’

‘’You can shove your appearances up your-‘’ Fae’s sentence ended with an unseemly yelp as he was suddenly twirled. He landed back in Thorn’s arms clumsily a second later. Thorn didn’t say anything else. He smirked, which made Fae all the more pissed off, and led Faelan along through the dance. Everyone saw as Fae struggled to keep up, messing up the steps and stumbling once in a while – Thorn was, of course, flawless and graceful as a swan, despite his bulk.

‘’Oh dear,’’ Airen said as the song finally stopped and the two pulled apart. He clapped his hands with the other guests from where he now stood next to Daran, speaking to him in a low tone, ‘’maybe I should have taught him dancing.’’

Daran gave him a look, clapping also, ‘’I’m sure that would have gone by well in the war camps.’’

Airen sighed heavily and Daran bumped him gently with his hip. After their third child was born, Airen had finally – _finally_ – moved back into the palace. Daran had cherished and treasured him even more than ever since then. But even when Airen had begged him to arrange the marriage with Thorn with someone else, Daran was unyielding. Queen Annamaria wanted their firstborn. It was a grand gesture of peace and prosperity, and Daran knew how much those m meant – he’d married his worst enemy in the name of peace, after all, and he’d come to love him dearly. He was sure Faelan would come to love Thorn, too, especially since Thorn wasn’t from a nation that had slaughtered and killed Faelan’s friends in battle since the dawn of time.

Daran cleared his throat, raising a hand at the musicians, who ceased their playing, ‘’we welcome you to the Arhanese court, prince Thorn,’’ he said, voice booming and commanding, as always, and then he dropped the news, ‘’we hope you will accept our son as your bride on the first day of the new month.’’

Daran was a little surprised when both Faelan and Thorn whirled around, gaping at him, ‘’WHAT!?’’ they exclaimed, looking shocked and horrified. At least they’d yelled in unison, Daran consoled himself.

*~*~*

Nym Wolfhart lay with his stomach flat against the rocky outcrop that jutted out over the grassy valley, beyond the forest that grew at the foot of the Moher Mountains. The bandit’s three-stone necklace rested against the stone as he observed the steady stream of people from a distance. They were travelling through the mountains with wagons and packs and they seemed to be going for the unoccupied western mountain. The bandits may have lived in the middle mountain for a few decades now, with the eastern mountain caves collapsed and the western mountain unoccupied, but all three were still _theirs_. What were these people doing here!?

‘’Arhanese soldiers?’’ Halin Romaris, the future Queen of Bandits, asked in a low voice.

Nym squinted his eyes at the convoy in the distance. They all seemed to have pale hair, that much was clear, ‘’maybe,’ Nym said, ‘’but what would they be doing here? And with packs as well?’’

Halin turned to look at her sworn-brother, her explosion of tiny, black curls flat against the ground she lay against, ‘’maybe they’re trying to settle the mountains?’’ her dark eyes, set in her equally dark face, narrowed, ‘’they’re trying to settle Khandar. Maybe they’ll try us, too.’’

Nym rolled his dark brown eyes, ‘’and then what? The pirates? They can’t have all the free people of the world,’’ he peered at the convoy. They were entering the forest.

Halin pulled herself from the edge of the outcrop and out of view before sitting up, ‘’we should go tell Meghry.’’

‘’Tell Meghry what?’’ came a care-free voice.

‘’Stupid!’’ Halin hissed, grabbing the wrist of Jayse and yanking him down, out of view, ‘’what are you doing here?’’

‘’I followed you,’’ the sixteen year old shrugged, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. It was, really. Jayse Amato was always willing to prove himself, following the future Queen like a lost puppy. He got them all into trouble more times than Nym could count, ‘’what do we have to tell Meghry?’’ he repeated.

Nym descended from the edge, too, and smacked Jayse upside the head, just above his brown ponytail, ‘’you’ll find out, knowing you,’’ he grunted, jerking his chin at Halin, ‘’let’s go.’’

They set off at a run uphill with Jayse struggling to follow. Soon, the three bandits reached the vertical wall of the rocky mountain. It would have daunted everyone except the bandits. They climbed with precision that had been drilled into them since they’d been born. It wasn’t long before they were ducking under the waterfall concealing the entrance to the bandit caves and seeking out their Queen in the mess hall, ‘’Meghry,’’ Halin approached the table she sat at, with some of the most important people amongst the bandits – Merin Santi, the ancient former Bandit king; Cyra Wolfhart, Nym’s great-grandmothers, and Pandora Wolfhart, his mother; Dani Romaris, Halin’s father; and, of course, Elysia Amato, Merin’s daughter, and Amaria, her wife. The two looked at their son, Jayse, and sighed, shaking their heads. Amaria was a witch, and a powerful one at that, but Jayse had come out blandly human, with eyes of the same matching grey. They were not double-coloured, like the eyes of witches across the kingdoms. He was forever bitter at that and the two knew that their son’s need to prove himself was a liability to everyone else.

‘’What is it?’’ Meghry, the middle aged Bandit Queen, glanced over her shoulder at her protégée.

‘’There’s people coming towards the western mountain. They’ve just entered the forest,’’ Halin said, quick and to the point. Her calmness and bluntness were some of the traits that had made Meghry pick her as the next Queen, ‘’it looks like there could be a couple hundred of them. As many as us. They don’t look like soldiers.’’

Meghry frowned as conversation erupted around her table, hushed and insistent, ‘’people? Amongst our mountains?’’ she rose, abandoning her bowl of stew. In minutes, she had the bandits in the caves on alert. In a few more, they were all leaving the caves, climbing down towards the forest. From afar, they must have looked like hundreds of spiders crawling down the rocky walls.

The bandits didn’t know if there would be a fight. They weren’t sure what to expect.

But as the newly arrived settlers emerged from the trees, they didn’t look at all surprised to see the bandits waiting for them. Nym and Halin were in the first few rows of bandits. Nym’s hand hovered over his crudely curved sword at his side but he blinked in surprise, forgetting it for a moment, at what he saw. The people before him were the strangest looking lot he’d ever seen. Most of them were blonde, from the palest of pale to dark gold that was almost brown. Many wore hideous, terrifying helmets on their heads, fashioned from huge, curving ram horns and the jaws of some kind of predator, the upper jaws hanging low over their brow, the lower jaw split so that it encircle the backs of their heads, the teeth at the bottom cupping their jaws. Many had pieces of their hair dyed blue. All had complicated runes painted under their eyes and against their chins. It was some kind of tribe, clearly, but one Nym had never seen before in his life.

A young woman stepped forward from the cluster at the front of the column. She wore a long, green cape over her clothing with a bronze pin at the centre, like the rest of the tribe did. Her hair was pale gold, falling down her back in many tiny braids, some of them dyed dark blue. Her helmet looked like it was about to chomp off her face but she smiled nonetheless, despite the atrocity on the heads of her people. The horns were painted black and the jaws and teeth gold, making her stick out against the other helmets. Her tribe came to a halt behind her, carts cluttering to a stop, people ceasing to march. All looked at the bandits with silence. Many smiled. The leader was joined by an elderly woman. She must have been blonde, too, once, but now her curls had gone grey and limp under her helmet. The leader inclined her head, giving the bandits a better look at the beast adorning her hair, ‘’hello, bandits,’’ she said in a voice clear as a spring. Her massive axe glinted across her back. Nym’s hand returned to the hilt of his sword. These people carried weapons – they posed a threat, ‘’I am Yesanith Aejor, the King of the Kåvieh-Dah. This is my grandmother, Barbenna. The previous King. ’’

Meghry frowned, at the strange name and the way the woman introduced herself, ‘’we do not know of your people.’’

Yesanith smiled pleasantly, ‘’I wouldn’t expect you to. After all, we have been hidden from the rest of the world for hundreds of years.’’

Meghry narrowed her eyes at her, her bandits an immovable wall behind her, ‘’where do you hail from, then?’’

‘’Arnheim, once,’’ Yesanith said breezily, ‘’but for as long as our people can remember, we have dwelled in the forests around...’’ she paused as if trying to recall, ‘’the city you call Wotan.’’

There was a shift amongst the bandits, ‘’no man’s land?’’ Nym hissed in confusion at Halin. The vast forest – the last thing between Wotan and the Witchlands – was treacherous and wild. Barely anyone dared go into it. No one had infiltrated its darker, wilder parts in millennia. No one had ever thought someone lived there.

Meghry was unyielding, ‘’well, I suggest you return there. These are our mountains.’’

Yesanith pointed towards the western peak, ‘’you don’t use that one.’’

‘’We don’t have to,’’ Meghry said coldly.

Yesanith’s smile remained pleasant, ‘’you do not use it because there are not enough bandits. There were once, if I recall correctly from the stories. Enough to fill all three mountains,’’ Meghry bristled at that but Yesanith went on, ‘’we come in peace. Our lands are hard and dangerous. We seek a better home.’’

‘’You won’t find one here,’’ Meghry said through clenched teeth.

Yesanith didn’t seem surprised, ‘’isn’t it true that once a torch is lit, asking the bandits for help, you must take in whoever asks?’’

Meghry narrowed her eyes again, ‘’I don’t see a torch in your hand.’’

Yesanith swept her cape aside, revealing that one hand did, indeed, hold a torch. She produced two small pebbles, seemingly out of nowhere, and struck them together. The spark caught and her torch lit with fire. She extended it out to her side, letting all see. Beside her, Barbenna produced her own torch and did the same. Nym watched, wide-eyed, as the Kåvieh-Dah seemed to ripple. They moved, first the ones at the front, then further out, as if a signal. They all produced torches. They all lit them. The Queen of Bandits found herself standing, wide-eyed, before a sea of fire, with hundreds of people she could not turn away by the ancient laws.

‘’We intend to help you survive,’’ Yesanith said, her torch burning brightly, ‘’there are many young and beautiful people amongst the Kåvieh-Dah. There will be much love between our people, if you will allow it. The bandits will once again be a force to be reckoned with. We will fill the three mountains and more.’’

Nym couldn’t help but feel impressed. He looked towards Meghry. She still didn’t look convinced though her shock had not worn off, ‘’what do you want in return?’’ she demanded.

Yesanith laughed prettily, ‘’for you to do the same. Help us survive,’’ Yesanith nodded at her people and, as one, they turned towards the western mountain and began walking again, carrying their torches with pride amongst their carts and herds of animals. Yesanith glanced back towards Meghry, ‘’please come to our mountains tonight, Bandit Queen, with your people. I swear by the gods we will cause you no harm,’’ her smile turned playful, ‘’I hope we can be friends,’’ then she turned and joined the stream of pale-haired, beast-headed Kåvieh-Dah heading for the western mountain.

*~*~*

Dorn Farlane sprinted down the corridor as fast as his average-length, vaguely-feeble legs would carry him. He was supposed to be at his entrance ceremony into his seventh year at Witchland Academy. Instead, he was running for dear life from Gedaan Guylani and his cohorts. Dorn could hardly blame them for picking on him for the last seven years he’d been at the academy. He was _perfect_ for picking on. Even his own sister picked on him. He was a witchling in a school of powerful witches – Elementalists and shape-shifters and Hedges. His power was limited to a few tricks a child witch could do and the cruel power that lurked in the five marks that ran along the nape of his neck. Those marks were the only true power any witchling had and once they used up all five, they turned human. Dorn didn’t want to turn human – he was already painfully ordinary even with double-coloured eyes that marked him as a witchling. His hair grew fast and in a smooth copse atop his head, hanging in an unattractive fringe in his eyes. Dorn never had the time to cut it. To top it off it was _carrot orange_. What an awful colour. His eyesight wasn’t great so in addition to having his whole forehead covered by the hair he always forgot to cut, his eyes and cheeks were covered by massive, thick, circular glasses. He was short and he’d never gotten rid of his childhood chub, which clung to his slightly rounded cheeks and body. He couldn’t fight and he was too timid to stand his ground verbally. He was an _ideal_ target.

The only thing Dorn thought he was good at was hiding except there was nowhere to hide in this bloody corridor. Once upon a time, before the Witchlands were Rhein, when they were still just Kainan, the academy had been the royal palace in Queensbane. It had been turned into the academy by the headmaster, Kaliq. The corridor may have once had suits of armour displayed for decoration or anything where Dorn could hide but now it was all just pristine, light grey stone. Dorn’s feet thundered on the ground, echoing, as he ran through the empty space. Gedaan was somewhere behind, taking his time on closing in on his prey. The older years were in class. Today was the day the seventh years arrived – tomorrow it would be the sixth years, then the fifth years and so on. Dorn wished it had been the other way round, so he could have gotten here and settled in before bumping into ninth year Gedaan. He was so lost in feeling sorry for himself and keeping his body moving that he wasn’t paying attention to his surroundings. Clinging to the strap of his satchel, thrown over his shoulder, he swerved round the corridor, narrowly missing a face-plant straight to the wall.

He face-planted into a person instead.

Dorn fell back, straight on his ass, with a pained gasp. His satchel fell off his arm and Dorn reached for it, glancing up at the person he’d bumped into. His fingers froze and his eyes widened in fear and awe. The young man in front of him was definitely a few years older and _mesmerising_. Since the academy opened, all types had come from Mystic and all over the world to attend but Dorn still didn’t bump into fae witches often. The boy was likely from Helvaetis, the night realm, judging by his dark skin and navy hair, slicked back against his scalp and erupting in a messy, layered ponytail at the back. His ears, clearly exposed, were pointed. He had a strong nose and his surprised eyes were two contrasting shades of auburn. He didn’t wear the red uniform jacket over the white, high-collared shirt with the academy sigil – stag horns – stitched in red at the collar. Instead, he wore black suspenders, which looked shockingly handsome on him, and a gold choker made from what looked like rope around his neck. His sleeves were rolled up and his hands were in his pockets. He hadn’t even budged when Dorn flew into him. But the one thing Dorn couldn’t stop staring at was the faerie’s _wings_. Black and feathered, they were tucked neatly against his back, jutting over his shoulders. Night faeries varied, like all faeries. Some had black veins like cracks running through their bodies. Some had black eyes or claws like harpies. And some had wings...

‘’Qilynn!’’ came Gedaan’s shout from down the corridor and Dorn scrambled up, satchel forgotten. The male in front of him was clearly dangerous and now he was trapped between predators. His breath came out in small, panicked puffs, ‘’hand us over our little Dork Farlane, will you?’’

Dorn dared to look up at the faerie. The male glanced at him, feeling his gaze, and gave him a hard glare. Dorn squealed like a piglet caught in a trap and set off running. Hiding was always his best option. He sprinted down the corridor, hoping the others wouldn’t follow and he wouldn’t bump into any more shady types. He flew into his history class, slamming the massive doors shut behind him and breathing hard.

‘’Late,’’ his teacher snapped.

Dorn forced his breathing to calm, ‘’I’m so sorry, Professor Aerith.’’

Aerith pretended to gag. She was the Queen of Jahaenna, the Ice Kingdoms. She was the General of the Ice Armies, one who had fought in the witch hunter wars. And yet somehow she got stuck with being called ‘professor’. Her three sisters from the witch hunt had joined the ranks of the teachers of the academy and she couldn’t be bested. Unfortunately, amongst the subjects she taught, she got stuck with pesky history. She waved a night-black hand, ‘’whatever. Sit.’’

Dorn ducked his head, ignoring the giggles of his classmates, and walked past the rows of wooden desks, to the back, where his only friend sat, ‘’how are you late?’’ Taryn Amato whispered with a worried expression.

‘’Long story,’’ Dorn sat down and tried to make himself invisible, which was kind of hard since his hair was like a flare. Taryn mutely slid the parchment she’d been writing on between them so Dorn could scribble down her notes. Dorn had no idea how he managed to nab such a good friend like Taryn. Sure, she was pretty shy and, despite being a warrior witch, she still hadn’t manifested her weapon. But she was the daughter of living-legend Mairwen Amato and Arlana of the Glenn; she was half-fae, with pretty, short silver-white hair and creamy brown skin; she was a great pupil and no one ever picked on her. She must have had a serious righteous bone in her body to take someone like Dorn under her wing.

‘’Alright, so, like I said,’’ Aerith drawled, sounding like she’d rather be literally anywhere else. She sat up on her wooden desk, her white hair falling like a curtain over her shoulder, ‘’last year we managed to cover everything up to the end of the plague. This year we’ll look at what happened after, I suppose,’’ she waved a hand. Tiny ice particles appeared in the air and came together, forming rough outlines of the kingdoms. She took her wooden stick from the table and stuck it through Kainan, ‘’let’s start with our own beautiful kingdom,’’ she yawned and stretched, ‘’after the battles which we so gloriously won it was happy days for mostly everyone. Yay,’’ she waved her free hand in the air sarcastically, ‘’the Witchlands, which used to be Rhein before it got completely destroyed by the plague, thrived. The academy was founded six years after the death of Niktohal Magana, which officially marked the end of the witch hunter wars. Koln recovered the fastest. Queen Annamaria Hyndestane transitioned on the throne of Hailbronn smoothly,’’ her pointed hovered over Solin, ‘’and Solin got hit with another shit-storm.’’ Aerith jumped off her desk and paced in front of her group of seventh year students, ‘’who can tell me what happened in Solin?’’ when no one replied, she pointed her pointer at Taryn, who sat up straighter, ‘’Amato.’’

‘’Uh...I don’t know?’’ Taryn asked uncertainly. These days it was bad luck to talk about Solin.

‘’Precisely,’’ Aerith nodded, continuing her pacing, ‘’no one knows. To the rest of the world, it looked like the royal family of Solin and half the nobles simply disappeared off the face of the Earth. Most presume them dead. Fengor has been the de-facto King of Solin since his invasion eighteen years ago. Can anyone tell me how his appearance affected the other kingdoms? Solafide.’’

The 7th year jumped at being called out but quickly supplied, ‘’Queen Raaisel put up additional wards around the Witchlands for protection and agreed to creating the academy to train witches against threats like the witch hunts of twenty two years ago. King Orin Eiris built walls around the Koln-Solin border to fend off King Fengor in case he decides to attack.’’

‘’Yes,’’ Aerith pretended to clap, ‘’great. Someone did their summer reading. Now, about the walls...’’

Dorn stopped listening, turning instead to Taryn, ‘’I bumped into someone,’’ he whispered because the faerie was still stuck in his head.

‘’Who?’’ Taryn asked from the corner of her mouth, keeping her eyes on her professor.

‘’I don’t know his name,’’ Dorn said, playing with his hands under his desk, ‘’I, uh...bumped into him. But he’s a night faerie. With wings and everything.’’

Taryn glanced at him, noting his wide, sparkling eyes. She quirked an eyebrow, ‘’was he handsome?’’

Dorn flushed, ‘’h-huh?’’

‘’Was he handsome?’’ Taryn smiled knowingly, ‘’you sound like he was.’’

Dorn brought his shoulders up to his ears, embarrassed, ‘’I’m more scared of him than anything. I bumped into him.’’

‘’Is that why you don’t have your things?’’

Dorn looked down on himself and only then noticed that his satchel was gone. Probably taken by Gedaan. Dorn groaned and slumped in his chair, ‘’what a wonderful first day,’’ he sighed.

*~*~*

The fake Lord Arthion Fade leaned over the rail of the ship, looking out at the jumping ocean. How he longed to be a siren right then, free from all burden and all past. Not chased by anything but the waves and the occasional dolphin. Land had been visible in the distance all day – his destination. And even though each second put more distance between him and Kainan, he was still afraid. Khandar was on the edge of the world and it still wasn’t far enough. If his name truly was Arthion Fade, he’d probably be excited and a little hopeful about what was to come. But his name was not Arthion Fade.

His name was Sharian Reyyra and he was not a noble by a long shot.

‘’Brooding again, Arth?’’ Ariawyn Mormyar, one of his fellow brides-to-be on the ship, came to lean on the rail with him.

‘’I’m not brooding,’’ Sharian lied with an easy smile, ‘’I’m thinking of our new home.’’

‘’Ah, yes,’’ Aria rolled her eyes, looking towards the horizon, ‘’Khandar. Full of wilderness and dirty alphas who haven’t seen a beta or omega in a few years. I worry about them more than the tribes.’’

Sharian gave her a look, ‘’we’re supposed to marry them, you know.’’

The ship was a one-way journey for most onboard. There were two types of people here – the soldiers, travelling to help settle the wild kingdom of Khandar, and the brides. Sharian was one of those. A few years back alphas were recruited to start a new life there – anyone from the lowest of criminals to the highest of princes could go as an equal, if they wished. And now it was time to make Khandar a proper home. For that, families were needed. And to make families, you needed marriage. So, like the alphas got to go before, now betas and omegas that wished to start anew in a foreign, exciting place were recruited. You could be a commoner or a noble, it didn’t matter. You just had to fill some criteria – you had to be healthy, you had to be somewhat pretty and you had to be prepared to be handed over as a bride to an alpha as soon as the ship docked. Sharian didn’t know if the settlers paid for the brides or filled out a special order for them or something. All he knew was that Arthion Fade was supposed to be on this ship.

And Sharian was on there instead.

This had been his one shot to leave, start over, and it had succeeded – but he still worried.

‘’Look,’’ Aria glanced over her shoulder, her sharp Asakurian eyes darkening, ‘’he’s following us again. Like a dog.’’

Sharian looked and met the eyes of Jasim Shaed, a former guard. He’d been shamed, one way or another. He’d left Moriya with his head hung low but when he was given a purpose – looking after and protecting Lord Arthion Fade, the only noble on the ship – he perked up. They were all supposed to be equal on here, with no more titles, but Jasim Shaed still took great pride in it. Except Sharian wasn’t actually Arthion Fade and the more Jasim Shaed watched him during the months at sea, the more Sharian worried he knew.

‘’Let him watch us,’’ Sharian turned back to the impending land and the new future it held for all the hopeful brides on board, ‘’we have nothing to hide.’’

‘’Uh-hum,’’ Aria muttered in a way that _clearly_ disagreed. Maybe that’s why, amongst nearly three dozen brides on board, they’d migrated to each other. Because Aria knew there was something strange about Sharian and he knew there was something strange about her. To the naked eye, she was just a pretty Asakurian omega. But Sharian had heard the whispers that followed her across the ship.

 _Arsonist_...

Well, it wasn’t as if Sharian was holy either.

*~*~*

In his spare moments, Dain like to wander through the Khandarian jungle.

The bride ship was arriving tonight and he wasn’t getting one. He wasn’t surprised. He’d only been in Khandar six months. The brides were for those who had been around for the last three years, like that gloomy bastard, Jhaan Leake. Dain wasn’t especially bothered – he didn’t like the idea of having someone from a random ship just _assigned_ to him. Like an obligation or a post. But then again, having someone would be nice. He’d finished building his house and it looked like he could truly make Khandar his home...but he couldn’t fend off loneliness with hard work. In the moments when others drank at their new tavern or relaxed in their homes, Dain explored the jungle. It was nothing like the forests of Kainan. Here, trees were strange and exotic, growing together, with vines hanging between them like lanterns. There were plants, flowers and birds Dain wanted to learn to identify. There were surprise ravines, outcrops of rocks and sweetly-singing rivers.

Dain’s favourite place was the waterfall though he’d only been there two or three times because of how far away from home it was. The settlers, under the instruction of Crass Roxton, cut down trees near the beach to make space for their new town. The tribes of Khandar had been a surprise but, thankfully, agreements had been made and peace ensured. The tribes stuck to their cities, leaving the coastline to the settlers. Dain had seen a couple of Hasinai and Mohigan natives. He knew there was a third tribe, Myaamia, but they had chosen to give the settlers a wide berth. Dain couldn’t blame them. A rag-tag group of alphas was bound to be trouble.

On the day of the arrival of the brides, Dain decided to make the time to go all the way to the waterfall and when he finally saw it, he decided the long, difficult walk had been worth it. He stopped on the banks of the river it spilled out onto, smiling up at it. The waterfall was high, like a mountain, roaring down in a great body of water. Dain was dying to see what was beyond it but he was too afraid. They all were – the settlers never strayed far from the town they had built. Dain wished he was fearless. He looked up at the top of the waterfall, half-cupped by a rocky dam before the current became too much and it broke apart. He wondered what was up there. A river? A forest? Maybe one of the tribal cities he’d never seen till now.

A movement caught his eye and he frowned, squinting against the sun. There was a person up there, standing on the rocks, right where the waterfall fell! Dain gasped, his eyes widening. Were they stuck? He looked around desperately for something that could help him get the person down. How did someone get up there? It couldn’t be safe, ‘’hey!’’ he called, doubting he was heard, ‘’get down from there!’’

And then, to his utmost shock, the small figure at the top disappeared...only to appear a moment later, soaring through the air like a graceful bird, before their body angled towards the water. Dain was suddenly gripped with a sudden heat; his breath caught and his heart seemed to stop for a moment. He had no idea what that feeling was and he had no choice but to watch the person shoot down to the water, straight as an arrow, before disappearing in the foaming river. Only then did Dain’s breath leave him in an astounded, terrified huff. That...no one could survive that, right? It was so high! Dain couldn’t imagine climbing up there, much less jumping down...

But apparently his concerns were laughable because only a moment later the jumper kicked his way to the surface, coming up for air, tilting his head back and grinning at the sun as if jumping down from dangerous heights was normal for him. Dain was shocked at how suddenly close he was after being so far away only seconds before. Dain got over his shock, staring at the boy, who was not aware he was being watched. He was a native, that much was clear. His skin was blemish-free and looked like impossibly soft, brown silk. His hair was long-ish and silver. An omega. He ran a brown hand through it, pushing the wet strands back as he opened his pretty, round, dark eyes.

They fell on Dain and he gasped, jerking as if struck by a lightning.

Dain snapped out of his awe, flinching as the boy dived. He re-appeared a second later by the shore, scrambling to get out. He was naked except for some sort of trousers that hugged his thighs and skin just below his knees. He was sopping wet and he just stood there, watching Dain with wide eyes as if waiting for him to strike like a viper. Dain knew he looked scary. His own people were afraid when they first lay eyes on him, much less a native who knew nothing of him. His unruly curls were a reddish brown which people often compared to dried blood; his scruffy goatee made him look dangerous and rough; he was muscular and scarred; most importantly, he had a black eye-patch running across his face, covering one eye. That could speak of any type of terrible past – a pirate, an assassin, a mercenary...a _witch hunter_... he was none but of course he couldn’t say that to the native boy, who stared at him with wide eyes. Dain extended his hand out, slowly, as to not spook the boy, in a gesture of peace, ‘’I won’t hurt you,’’ he said, as gently as he could.

But the sound of his voice startled the boy. In a flash, he brought two fingers to his lips and blew. A high pitched whistled sounded and only a second later a wild stallion broke through the brush growing only a few feet away. It was as majestic as it was wild but the boy had no fear. He ran up to it, grabbed it by its mane and swung himself onto its back, ‘’wait-‘’ Dain tried, taking a step towards him but the boy gave a call, squeezing his thighs around the horse and the animal thundered off with the boy.

Dain sighed, dropping his hand. He looked back to the waterfall, wondering what type of person wouldn’t be afraid of jumping down from such a height. One who wasn’t afraid of anything at all, probably...

*~*~*

‘’Liz! Liz!’’ Dorn found his older sister, Aliza, after classes on the first day, in front of the expedition board. It was huge and it attracted most ninth and tenth years, who were the only ones allowed to pick and choose. There were dozens of missions, some very simple, others so hard only the best took them. The ninth and tenth years were anxious to get started on gaining experience before the exam at the end of tenth year. It was said to be so hard barely anyone passed.

‘’Go away, squirt,’’ Aliza reached out her hand and caught Dorn point-blank in his face, shoving him away lightly as she stood examining the board. Many of those who came to see the jobs ended up admiring Aliza instead. She was the beauty of the school and Dorn didn’t know how she did it, since they had almost the same features. Her ginger hair was braided down her back. She wore the girls’ uniform – a white tunic with a red collar and a sleeve-less, floor length red-and-black vest jacket effortlessly. Large earrings hung from her ears and her delicate throat was encircled by a blue dragon choker with a ruby-red eye. Dorn had no idea if she made herself look so pretty on purpose; she never seemed to be interested in anyone.

‘’I have a question,’’ Dorn said.

‘’And I have a job,’’ Aliza motioned to the board, then sighed and put her hand on her hip, ‘’no, wait, I don’t. They’re all shit.’’

‘’Liz!’’

Aliza groaned softly and shoved past witches, letting them closer to the board as she pulled her little brother away. The nineteen year old Seer witch crossed her arms over her chest, ‘’what?’’ she demanded.

‘’I...’’ now that his sister was actually willing to talk to him, Dorn didn’t know how to word it, ‘’um...there’s a boy I want to know about.’’

Aliza didn’t look impressed, ‘’do I look like a match-maker to you? Go ask some lesser Seer witch to read your palm or something,’’ she turned to go.

Dorn grabbed her arm, ‘’wait!’’ he lowered his voice, ‘’I...I think he might be in your class.’’

Aliza turned back around to him slowly, looking intrigued now, ‘’why do you care?’’

‘’No reason,’’ Dorn squeaked, ‘’just interested.’’

Suddenly, Aliza pressed two fingers to her temple, scrunching up her face. She extended a hand towards Dorn’s face, ‘’I’m seeing something...’’ she said gravelly, ‘’a vision...it’s telling me...oh, yes,’’ she flicked Dorn’s forehead, ‘’that you’re chatting absolute shit. Out with it.’’

‘’Just...he’s a night faerie. Has black, feathered wings,’’ Dorn snapped, ‘’do you know him?’’

Aliza’s eyebrows shot up, ‘’what, Ravor Qilynn?’’ she gave him a shit-eating grin, leaning closer, ‘’what business do _you_ have with Ravor Qilynn?’’

 _Ravor Qilynn..._ ‘’n-none of your business,’’ Dorn squeaked.

Aliza looked like she wanted to drag it out of him but just then someone bumped shoulders with her by accident, ‘’watch it,’’ she said with her usual mild disdain.

‘’Oh, Liz,’’ a strange looking boy gave Aliza a lazy, relaxed grin. He was definitely a normal witch, judging by his smooth ears and tan skin, covered with an army of freckles, but his slicked-back hair was a mess of purple and blue, like he hadn’t been sure which he preferred and dumped both on his head. His eyebrows were dark blond and he had a bow and arrow slung over his back. Only tenth years were allowed to carry weapons. Dorn did a double take when he noticed the boy wore nothing but a mess of bandages across his chest and the red uniform jacket, ‘’have you seen this?’’ the boy raised a faded-looking piece of paper.

Another boy appeared, this one much more ordinary – he had tan skin and primly brushed brown hair. He waved a hand and a gust of wind brought the piece of paper out of the colourful-haired boys hand and into his own, ‘’don’t snatch stuff off me, Cal,’’ the boy snapped.

The colourful boy put his hands up in surrender before turning his eyes – one hazel, the other one curiously pink – towards Dorn, who flinched at the attention, ‘’this your kid brother, Liz?’’ the boy – Cal – drawled lazily. Before Aliza could reply, Cal gave him a little salute, ‘’Calryn Pyre, your friendly neighbourhood salesman,’’ he lowered his voice with a secretive grin, ‘’I can sell you potions that will turn your hair any colour you like or if you want something extra sweet from Herbology-‘’

Aliza shoved him out of Dorn’s face, ‘’you won’t sell your stolen goods to my kid brother,’’ she snapped, gesturing to the piece of paper, ‘’what have you go there then, Orland?’’

Orland showed the piece of paper proudly while Dorn rubbed a strand of his ginger hair together, wondering if changing the atrocious colour was a good idea, ‘’I found it on the expedition board. I think it’s been here as long as the academy.’’

Aliza snatched it off him and Orland threw his hands in the air in exasperation, ‘’it’s a plea to find a missing child,’’ Aliza said, reading the faded writing, ‘’from eighteen years ago. No wonder nobody will take it. You can’t complete the job and if you don’t, you get a fail...’’

Dorn’s sister’s voice was suddenly tuned out as his eyes zeroed in on a man striding through the crowd, parting them like water. Ravor Qilynn. He didn’t look happy...and he was coming straight for Dorn, ‘’I have to go,’’ Dorn managed, turn and ran, shoving past irritated people.

When in trouble, hide. That was is philosophy. He was still in once piece so it must work to some extent, he decided as he sprinted away from the night faerie and the gathering of older years. He dared to look behind him a moment later and his blood ran cold. Ravor was running after him and compared to his expression now, before he’d looked all sunshine and flowers. Dorn swallowed, pouring more energy into his legs. He had to run faster or he was a dead man. He crashed around corners and still he heard the thundering of Ravor’s feet behind him. Dorn realised his mistake when he looked around. There were no students here. He’d ran off to the quieter part of the academy and now there would be no witnesses if...if...

Dorn practically screamed as his forearm was caught in a vice-like grip and he was whirled around. He automatically wrenched his arm free and put up both to cover his face from blows, ‘’I’m sorry, I’m sorry-‘’ instead of coming into contact with fists, his arms were hit with something hard and familiar that thumped at his feet. Dorn lowered his hands uncertainly to find Ravor before him, looking irritated and breathing hard. Dorn could hardly breathe himself from the chase. He looked down and his eyes widened behind his spectacles. His satchel, with his books and parchment and quills, lay at his feet, ‘’w-wha...?’’ he managed softly.

Ravor Qilynn gave him a death glare, his black feathers bristling, ‘’I’m not your fucking delivery man, idiot,’’ he snapped in a voice deep as an earthquake, turned around and stormed off.

Dorn watched him go in quiet shock. Then, he glanced down at his satchel again and picked it up gingerly, opening it. Nothing was amiss. Nothing was dripping with water or filled with horrible bugs. Clearly, Gedaan Guylani hadn’t gotten his hands on it. Which meant Ravor must have taken it and kept it. Had he been looking around for Dorn to give it back? Dorn exhaled softly, looking to where Ravor was disappearing around the corner.

He was clearly nicer than he looked.

*~*~*

As the bandit procession made their way from the central mountain to the western peak, Nym found himself walking next to Meghry all of a sudden. The Bandit Queen had clearly done it on purpose, matching her step to his as the ground beneath their feet turned from grass to stone. It would be another hour before they reached the Western peak where the Kåvieh-Dah had decided to settle, ‘’I have a job for you, Nym,’’ Meghry said.

‘’Good or bad?’’ Nym chewed out, uncertain.

‘’Good,’’ she flashed him a grin, ‘’much more enjoyable for you than for the other party, I imagine,’’ Nym nodded for her to go on. Darkness was falling all around them. The bandits were unexpectedly loud in the hushed back-end of the forest, ‘’the Kåvieh-Dah Queen – I mean, King – claims she wants us to help each other survive. She said she has many young amongst her people that will marry us and help us populate the mountains.’’

Nym cringed, ‘’yeah, I remember that,’’ he was only nineteen and he wasn’t thinking about marriage. All he cared about, still, was adventure and banditism. Raiding villages, stealing whatever he liked, busting into taverns and drinking all their ale...not _settling down_. But he listened intently as his Queen spoke.

‘’My first thought was obviously to marry Halin to them,’’ she said, ‘’but she is the next Bandit Queen and I have to protect her for as long as I can. So my next option is you, as her sworn brother. Her second in command.’’

Nym stopped abruptly and Meghry stopped with him. She didn’t look surprised at his shock, ‘’you want me to marry one of them?’’ he choked out.

Meghry nodded, ‘’if this whole welcoming celebration thing,’’ she waved a hand towards the western mountain, ‘’is not a sham and they’re not out to kill us all, then maybe they are genuine. We must find out their true intentions if we don’t want to throw them out. We have to assert our power. And that’s on you,’’ she put her hand on his shoulder, staring at him intensely, ‘’go in there. Find someone you like. Pick them as your bride. Let’s see how they react,’’ she gave him a wicked grin, ‘’let’s shake them.’’

‘’But...will I have to actually marry them?’’

Meghry shrugged, ‘’if they deny you, we know they have been lying and we can throw them out. If they accept, your marriage doesn’t bind you to much. You’ll be their lord and master. You may do as you please.’’

Nym peered at her, ‘’you don’t seem to like them much.’’

Meghry looked a little grumpy as she began walking again, ‘’I just don’t like being outsmarted.’’

Nym watched her walk away then he peered at the Western mountain. Marry one of the Kåvieh-Dah...he sighed, running a hand through his hair. He wasn’t a bad looking man. His hair was orange-gold, pulled back at the temples, revealing a sweetly freckled face and keen, intense dark eyes. His body was muscular and in top shape. He could probably find a pretty lass or a pretty boy whenever he wanted. To rush into something like this, so suddenly...but Meghry was right. They had to suss out this newly arrived tribe and Nym couldn’t help but feel a little bit important. He jogged to catch up with his Queen, ‘’I’ll do it,’’ he said.

‘’No pressure,’’ she said, but she flashed him a grin.

They walked on.

As they neared the caves of the western mountain, abandoned for hundreds of years, Nym felt his fingers itch for his swords. He was sure this was a trap. He wanted a fight. But as they entered the caved, they were greeted by firelight and some of the golden-haired, horned-mask wearing members of the tribe. They bowed their blue-painted faces and gestured for the guests to come inside. Their carts had been left at the foot of the mountain. There were already fences and pens being built for the animals that had been brought. As Nym entered the spacious cavern hall the bandits were led through, he couldn’t help but be impressed. In just one day, the Kåvieh-Dah had managed to assemble some furniture. There were wooden tables running around the mess hall and fires in the long-unlit hearths. Meat was being toasted over them, smelling divine. Sweet honey was being poured into goblets. There were Kåvieh-Dah everywhere, saluting, talking and laughing. Carefree. There were some elderly. Children wove around the legs of their parents and under the tables, laughing.

‘’Bandits. Welcome,’’ Yesanith Aejor appeared, giving them a broad smile. She, like most others, still wore her horned helmet. She gestured to a mostly empty table, ‘’please, sit. Eat. Drink. Speak with whomever you wish – we shall be life-long friends, after all.’’

Meghry gave Yesanith a suspicious look but sat next to her. The weapons the bandits were laden with were not addressed. The Kåvieh-Dah carried none. There were children in the room – a fight was unlikely. For the better part of two hours, Meghry and Yesanith talked in quiet voices. Nym watched Meghry relax with each passing moment as she spoke with Yesanith. Beside him, Halin watched intently, too.

Finally, Yesanith stood and clapped shortly, twice. The conversation around the room quietened. Nym tensed, ready to snatch up his sword at a moment’s notice but Yesanith simply smiled, ‘’welcome, dear guests. We hope that our food, our drink and our conversation had entertained you. If not,’’ she gestured to the cavern entrance, ‘’I hope that the sweet melodies my brother play shall.’’

Nym’s eyes snapped to the entrance of the cave just as his brain caught up. Yesanith’s own brother...

_Shake them._

The boy seemed only one or two years younger than Nym, though it was hard to tell from a distance. He seemed lithe and graceful under his green cape. His hair, spilling from under his horned helmet, reached his chin in the palest of golden wisps, the tips dyed the colour of the summer sky. His pale hands carried a small, lovingly carved gittern. The Kåvieh-Dah clapped and cheered for him as he stepped in the centre of the room, gave an exaggerated bow which earned him a few laughs and then began playing, just like that. His tune was merry and fast. Nym would never admit, but it made him bounce his leg under the table, urging him to dance. The Kåvieh-Dah gave into the temptation. A few pale-haired, horned youths broke away from the tables, screeching and laughing freely as they shucked off their shoes and began dancing, twirling each other around and dancing around each other, arms linked. A broad-shouldered, bald man with a braided golden beard stood, raising his goblet of honey, ‘’sing, Azariah!’’

Nym saw Azariah roll his eyes from a distance and then he _did_ sing. His voice was as merry as a brook and as cheerful as the laughter of children. He sang in a language the bandits did not understand, in the ancient dialect of the Kåvieh-Dah. It reminded Nym of the brightest summer days, of childhood. It called up a smile to his face, without permission, as the bandits and tribesmen alike picked up a steady clap. More started dancing. Some of the rowdier bandits jumped in to join. Nym was surprised at how quickly they were welcomed. The golden haired newcomers grabbed their hands, twirling and letting themselves be twirled. Aza was grinning as he played, tapping his foot to the rhythm.

Too quickly the song was over and Nym found himself wishing it went on and on. The dancers broke away, laughing and clapping. Some bandits were led over to Kåvieh-Dah tables to drink and laugh alongside them. Nym looked towards Meghry, who was already looking at him. She gave him a subtle nod, catching his thoughts. Nym rose and strolled across the softly-lit cavern to where Azariah had sat down and was talking with some of his friends, laughing openly. He stopped when Nym appeared in front of him. Nym didn’t wait for him to look up. He had to show control. He had to make it look like the bandits had a say in any of this, even if the Kåvieh-Dah could probably stand their own if the bandits tried to kick them out. Both sides had the numbers.

Nym tucked a curled finger under Aza’s chin and tilted his head up. He stopped himself from sucking a breath at the last moment. The boy was _gorgeous_. Under the vicious teeth of the helmet he wore, his eyes were pale grey and open. The painted runs on his cheeks and chin were carefully drawn across his skin. His lips were full and pink, his eyebrows so pale they were practically not there. A pale scar slashed across his face, from the right brow to the left cheekbone but it did not take from his delicate beauty. The boy looked a little bit surprised to find Nym suddenly touching him, especially when Nym gazed at him a moment longer than he was meant to, his thumb brushing thoughtfully across his chin. Finally, he pried his eyes away from Azariah and looked towards the bandit table, where Yesanith was watching him with calm curiosity, ‘’you say you want our people to help each other survive. To marry,’’ he raised his chin, ‘’well, then, I want this one.’’

Yesanith studied him for a moment. Then, her eyes flicked to her brother, ‘’Aza?’’

Nym looked to the boy, too. He knew he had no choice but Azariah did not look afraid. In fact, he was smirking at Nym, almost in defiance. It made Nym feel like a child. It made him feel stupid. It made his blood boil.

Azariah Aejor gave a delicate shrug of his shoulders, like Nym didn’t matter to him either way.

*~*~*

Demothi sat on a rock just outside of Mishawka where the Hasinai river tribesmen lived, amongst their hills, fuelled by the Hasinai River. He was playing pipes he’d made from bamboo shoots when he saw his friend approaching. He put the pipes away, smiled and waved, ‘’beautiful day!’’

‘’You could call it that,’’ Catori Moon-Daughter stooped in front of him, squinting in the sun, ‘’it’s going to get hot.’’

‘’It’s always hot,’’ Demothi chuckled. He brushed his silver hair out of his eyes, careful of the blue feathers he usually wore in it, ‘’so...how are the shore people?’’

‘’There’s more ships coming,’’ Catori shrugged. As the daughter of Mekwi, the chief of the Hasinai tribe, she knew most things, especially on the foreigners that had decided to build their city on the shores of Khandar. Hasinai and Mohigan had opted for peace and mutual friendship but Demothi’s tribe, Myaamia, decided to stay out of it. They were weary of the newcomers and as much as they fascinated him, his tribe wanted nothing to do with them, ‘’their chief said its bringing brides.’’

‘’How can a ship bring brides?’’ Demothi scratched at the grey paint creating a symbol under his eye. It was green, marking him as Myaamia. Catori’s was blue.

‘’I don’t know, Moth,’’ Catori sighed, plopping down next to him on the rock, ‘’it just does. That’s the way of the shore people.’’

‘’Weird creatures,’’ Moth mused, remembering the one he'd met - and that strange, gripping heat that had held him for a moment when he first lay eyes on him, ‘’I saw one of them yesterday. By the waterfall. He was staring at me as if he’d seen a spirit in the fire,’’ he covered his eye and turned to Catori, ‘’his eye was covered – like this!’’

‘’Maybe he doesn’t have an eye,’’ Catori shrugged, ‘’you know how strange some of them are.’’

Moth had dared to sneak into the shore camp a few times, just to observe, but never too close. Achak would strangle him with a fishing net if he found out he’d been defying his orders. But that one-eyed man by the waterfall...he’d caught Moth’s attention. Moth couldn’t get him out of his head. Suddenly, he registered something, ‘’wait...did you say more ships?’’

‘’Yes.’’

He jumped up, excitement spiking, ‘’when? Are they going to stay for a while? Do you think I’ll get to see them this time?’’

Catori groaned, ‘’don’t, Moth. You’ll make Ashkii mad at me again.’’

‘’He’s not my father; he’s my best friend,’’ Moth said with a cheeky grin, ‘’he can’t stop me.’’

Catori rose, too, and walked briskly after Moth when he started walking away, ‘’what about Achak? He’s your chief.’’

‘’He doesn’t have to know.’’

‘’He doesn’t want you anywhere close to the shore people!’’

‘’You’re allowed to go!’’

Catori grabbed his forearm, ‘’you’re not Hasinai,’’ she said sternly, ‘’my father wants us to interact with the shore people. He wants peace. I’m his daughter – I must uphold his wishes and I must have good relations with them. But Achak doesn’t want Myaamia involved so _you_ can’t be involved.’’

Demothi gave her a look, ‘’you sound just like Ashkii.’’

‘’Yes, well,’’ Catori sighed as if she couldn’t believe she was saying it, ‘’maybe Ashkii is right. Sometimes.’’

Moth searched for a joke to make Catori smile, to side her with him, but all he could find was honestly, ‘’Cat. The shore people are expanding. They’re pushing boundaries. I know chief Mekwi isn’t happy and Achak isn’t, either. Soon he’ll close Banglan and keep all of the Myaamia tribe inside,’’ he grabbed her hand, squeezing, ‘’this may be my only chance to see actual _ships_! Remember when your grandfather Cassius told us about them-‘’

‘’I know, I know,’’ Catori sighed, squeezing his hand back, ‘’don’t sell me out if you get caught though.’’

‘’I won’t,’’ Moth said excitedly, scratching away the green paint on his cheek that marked him as Myaamia, ‘’see? Now no one knows who I am.’’

*~*~*

Moth’s original plan was to stay out of the way and observe the ships from the thick growth of trees near the shore. The village, with its huts and small buildings, animal pens and bustle, was to the left, stretching from the top of the shore into the grassy land beyond. Moth wasn’t supposed to interact with anyone who dwelled here but the ship were just so _magnificent_. They only came once in a long while and they never stayed long. Demothi had heard all about ships and all the wonders of the other kingdoms from Catori’s Kai grandfather, Cassius. He’d taught them many things, like the language. Though Moth’s own people always disapproved of it, Cassius was greatly respected between the three tribes of Khandar and nobody said much about it. Moth was determined to see the ships in person.

And, spirits, were they glorious.

‘’Ancestors...’’ Moth breathed, clinging to a tree for purchase as he watched the great beasts dock. They were huge, big as four – no, five! – huts. Their wings were endless and white, fluttering in the wind and they cut through the sea like it wasn’t a power to be reckoned with but a tamed animal at their command. Before Moth knew what he was doing, he was sprinting down the beach. The ships had docked by the wooden pier the shore people had built, stretching from the beach, above the water, to the deeper ends to make it easier for the ships to bring their cargo. But these ships didn’t have the time to unload what they had brought with them because they were faced with all the excitement and vigour of nineteen year old Demothi Fire-Maker.

Those who worked at the makeshift port and the bundle of alphas who had come to pick up their brides turned heads as they saw the native streak by. Dain was amongst them and he recognised Moth instantly by his silver hair and his fearlessness. He ran on long, brown legs through the pier and then climbed, nimble as a monkey, up the net on one side of one of the two ships. He swung himself on amongst startled brides and soldiers. Some yelped and scrambled away from the wildling. Others stared curiously. For a moment, the attention of the alphas was pulled from where they could begin to glimpse their brides and to the little tornado that swept through the ship. A smile pushed itself onto Dain’s lips as he watched the native boy for the second time in the last few days. A few of the alphas around chuckled at the energetic boy.

Moth knew he was being stared at but once he was on the ship, he didn’t care. He laughed, astounded, running between barrels and coils of rope, not knowing what they were called or what they were used to, but agreeing in his head that they were wonderful. He ran to the prow of the ship, leaning out as far as he could and gasping. It felt like he was a seagull, flying over the waters. It was so close to him. He laughed again and then ran back the way he came, scaling the high mast in the middle. It was easier to do that scaling a tree because there were ropes for purchase everywhere. In no time he was on the top, his breath knocked out of him at the view. He saw Khandar, the trees, the shore people’s town and, most importantly, the ocean. As far as the eye could go. He grinned, spreading his arms on either side of him and letting the wind wash over him. Now he truly felt like he could fly. What a wondrous feeling. Moth didn’t think he’d ever get tired of it.

‘’Demothi Fire-Maker!’’ came an angry shout in Khandarian and Moth froze. He glanced down and his heart nearly gave out. Far below were a group of people, just emerging onto the shore – brown skinned, carrying spears...of all the days, it was the Myaamia tribe. And the person screaming up at Moth in disdain was chief Achak Ancestor-Spirit, the elderly leader of the Myaamia tribe. Moth didn’t waste time scrambling down. He grabbed a rope, tugged on it to make sure it was secure and jumped. He flew neatly through the air and landed on the sandy shore, breaking into a run instantly. He aimed for his tribe but then, suddenly, someone stepped in front of him and Moth came to a skidding halt, his bare feet spraying sand.

He vaguely recognised the man in front of him. He was on the brink of being old, with sunk in cheeks. His hair was the colour of wet sand, slick against his head and parted in the middle. He had a funny, little, wispy moustache beneath his nose and he wore magnificent clothing, purple and blue and gold. He was Crass, Moth recalled. He was the chief of the shore people. Moth stumbled back, but not fast enough, when Crass reached out, grabbing his face in a large, tan hand, ‘’what is such a pretty thing doing on my ship?’’ he mused in Kai. Most natives wouldn’t have understood. Though Moth knew Kai well thanks to Cassius, he kept his face blank. His instincts spiked. This man was dangerous, despite his smile, ‘’say, have you ever been with an educated man?’’

Some of the alphas around him laughed and Moth gritted his teeth, ‘’Demothi,’’ Achak snapped and this time Moth was glad for it. He broke out of Crass’ grip and ran to his tribe.

He was snatched up by Ashkii First-Hope, his lifelong friend. Ashkii grabbed him and pulled him deeper into the throng of tribesmen, ‘’why do you always have to cause trouble, Moth?’’ he whispered urgently.

Moth just held onto his arm and tried to make himself invisible.

Crass Roxton walked up to Achak, ‘’Achak,’’ he said, loud, like a man used to being heard and obeyed, ‘’welcome. I didn’t think we’d meet again.’’

Achak glanced right, where Kamama Borne-of-Stone stood. She was the Myaamia tribe shaman and she was peculiar looking – a shaved head, adorned with a single feather on a cord, eyes that were completely white and blind... her green paint was prominent against her cheek. Her breasts, like many of the breasts of the women in Khandar, were exposed. It wasn’t anything unusual. Kamama deserved the greatest of respects and yet Moth couldn’t help but think that Crass looked at her like at a piece of meat, his eyes lingering on her breasts. All the alphas looked at her like that. It disgusted Moth and he was glad she couldn’t see, ‘’I talked with shaman,’’ Achak said in very broken Kai that he had managed to learn over the last three years from Cassius, just in case, ‘’and we want to make friends.’’

Crass chuckled and Moth balled his hands into fists. He decided he loathed the man, ‘’you want to make friends? I’m glad to hear that chief.’’

‘’We have...’’ Achak struggled to find the word, ‘’rules.’’

‘’Is this about the shore people expanding into our territory?’’ Moth whispered.

‘’Quiet,’’ Ashkii hissed at him.

‘’Good, come,’’ Crass motioned for Achak to follow. A few of Myaamia’s warriors went with him, just in case. The others began retreating. Moth didn’t argue when Ashkii grabbed his arm and pulled him along.

*~*~*

Jhaan Leake watched the little native running around the ship without much entertainment. His head was pounding from last night’s drinking. The twenty four year old wanted nothing more than to go and drown his sorrows in another mug of ale, but he’d agreed to take on a bride. He’d come here three years ago and was one of the first eager workers to put up the town. Three years later loneliness, hard work, the unforgiving sun and homesickness had made him one bitter bugger. He missed Mutzre but there was nothing there for him – or here, for the matter. Drink was his only friend and when Jana Roxton, who was in charge of the bridal programme, assigned him a bride over a year ago, Jhaan had shrugged and accepted. At least he’d have someone to fuck at night, after three years of being around only insufferable alphas. But _this_ was a hassle. He had to come pick up his bride when all he wanted to do was cure his hungover. Still, it couldn’t be helped. Jhaan stood amongst the other hopefuls, who chuckled at the native who was running around, then quietened when the Myaamia tribe arrived. The townsmen had only really interacted with Hasinai so far. This was new.

Crass Roxton, the governor of the first settlement in Khandar, named New Vallarta for his hometown in Mutzre, led the chief of the Myaamia tribe away into the town and his spot was taken up by his twenty-five year old daughter, Jana Roxton, who was in charge of the whole bridal programme. She’d picked out a ship-full of hopefuls by hand from all the applications she received. She’d told Jhaan in secret that the one he was getting had been a Lord in Kainan. Jhaan didn’t care. As long as there was someone to warm him up at night when he felt like it, he didn’t care who it was. Still, standing in the scorching sun with his pounding headache made him wonder if it was all worth it, ‘’citizens of New Vallarta,’’ Jana spoke loudly and proudly, her scarlet-painted mouth stretched in a grin, ‘’I am proud to announce the arrival of your long awaited brides!’’

The work-worn, desire-filled alphas cheered loudly and Jhaan winced at the loud sound, which pounded through his head like a hammer. He rubbed the back of his ashy blond head as if he could stop the pain, sparing a second to feel sorry for the new arrivals. The brides probably expected there to be a wonderful wedding, a beautiful, glistening new city and a life of adventure and love. For the first few weeks at least, they’d get horny alphas wanting to do nothing but fuck like bunnies in their clay-and-hay houses. And there was no getting out of this. Coming to Khandar was a one-way trip for most.

‘’I will now read out the names of those who will marry tonight,’’ Jana continued, producing a folded piece of parchment, ‘’come and get your bride when I call their name. Show them to your house and make sure to take care of them,’’ she gave her fellow alphas a knowing look and they cheered again. She looked at her parchment, ‘’firstly...’’

*~*~*

‘’Ariawyn Mormyar,’’ Jana Roxton said. She hadn’t introduced herself to the brides, like they were cattle being transported into New Vallarta, but Sharian tried not to let that get to him, ‘’you’re with me.’’

At his side, Aria flinched, ‘’oh crap, I’m first,’’ she muttered.

The people around her, except for Sharian, all stepped away, making it obvious who she was. Sharian gave her a gentle push, ‘’go on. I’ll go see you later,’’ he whispered.

Ariawyn nodded, ‘’thanks, Arthion,’’ she whispered and strolled over to Jana Roxton with all the confidence she could muster. Jana was pretty, though she looked a little out of place, her elaborate clothing and fancy hair making her look like some sort of princess.

She smirked at Aria when she approached and motioned to her side, ‘’stay here until I finish.’’

Sharian wanted to kick Jana into the nearest river. What kind of greeting was that!? But he kept his mouth shut. He had to act the part of a noble. He had to make a new life here. There was no point starting it with violence and anger. Sharian forced himself to be calm as Jana called names after names. The excited crowd of brides dwindled as they were picked up by their alphas. Some of the brides were buzzing with excitement when they saw their future husbands. Others’ faces fell in disappointment when they were met with older, work-worn alphas. Sharian concentrated – he couldn’t miss Arthion’s name being called. Finally, when there were only eight or so brides left, Jana proclaimed, ‘’Jhaan Leake and Arthion Fade.’’

Sharian tried to act natural as he walked over to Jana. He glanced around, wanting to see who stepped up to claim him. The man caught his eyes instantly and Sharian studied him as he approached. He was young, maybe only twenty four or so – one of the youngest out of all the alphas. His hair was the colour of straw and it flopped over his forehead in an unruly way. His face was handsome but work worn – his face was darkly tanned, which told Sharian he spent most of his time outside. There were faded scars in a few places on his face. He wore a black, short sleeved tunic that hugged his muscular body. A good worker, then. It was clear he was Mutzrian from his traditional piercings – a hoop on his brow and a half-circle in the centre of his lower lip. Not bad looking but that didn’t matter. Sharian would pour everything he had into being a perfect bride – and averting suspicion – even if Jhaan Leake had been an ugly old man. Jhaan looked a little irritated as he gazed down at Sharian and Sharian didn’t know why. Up close, he picked up on the scent of ale. Was Jhaan drunk, or had he been the night before? It was hard to tell.

‘’Alright, come on, then,’’ he said and Sharian had to keep himself from frowning. It sounded like Jhaan wasn’t thrilled about having a bride at all and that was strange. Or maybe he just didn’t like Sharian’s face. The boy obediently followed the man who would become his husband that very evening, through the throng of alphas that were left. Some cast Sharian appreciative looks. He kept his head down.

New Vallarta stretched from the top of the sandy shores, out of reach of the incoming tide, into the grassy plains beyond. Some buildings spilled into the forest that seemed to make up a large portion of Khandar. Sharian hadn’t expected miracles and he didn’t get one. The town was just as expected – sturdily built but far away from the excellence of the cities in other kingdoms. There were clusters of huts made from wood, clay and hay. From a distance, Sharian spotted the only tavern around – built bigger than the other buildings, with a wooden sign hanging out front. Jhaan Leake’s house – and now Sharian’s, too – stood near the front of the town so Sharian didn’t have a long time to look around before he was pushed inside.

Inside, Jhaan’s home was plain and messy. Sharian forced himself not to frown at the notion that Jhaan hadn’t even cleaned up. The doors opened up to the large living space downstairs. There was a cooking hearth on the stone floor in one corner over which an iron pot hung. There was a small wooden chest under the window, which had the wooden shutters closed. On the chest stood a couple pots and pans and on the shelf next to it was a pile of bread. It looked stale. The other side of the room was dwarfed by the wooden stairs leading upstairs. Underneath the stairs was tucked a small working area for everything from washing to knitting to mending but it clearly had only been used as storage so far. There was a pile of unwashed clothes on the workbench. By the other window stood a roughly hewn table with two benches and a basket with eggs within. There was clutter everywhere.

‘’May I go upstairs?’’ Sharian asked, as sweetly as he could. Alphas liked sweet omegas, right?

Jhaan shrugged, ‘’do what you want. I’m leaving.’’

‘’Where are you going?’’ Sharian asked.

‘’Doesn’t matter.’’

Sharian opened his mouth to ask whether he should cook something for him or do any of the housework but Jhaan was surprisingly fast. He was out of the house in a flash, leaving Sharian alone. Sharian exhaled, irritated but a little relieved that he could drop his perfect bride facade. He went up the creaking wooden steps, to the bedroom that had been built in the attic. It wasn’t much to look at like the rest of the house. There was potential everywhere to make the place cosy and homey but Jhaan hadn’t bothered. The bedroom was nothing short of gloomy. There was a dark wood wardrobe in the corner, next to the bed. All furniture was hewn in the same rough way – Jhaan had probably made all of it. The bed was a little small and set with scratchy-looking blankets. There was another hearth here, messy with ash and soot, next to a bench. There was more clothing in the corner and a couple tools on the workbench in the corner. A mess. Everything discarded as if it didn’t matter.

Sharian sighed, rolling up his sleeves. He couldn’t attract any suspicion. He had to make a home for himself here and he could start by cleaning out his actual new house.

*~*~*

The wedding was quick group formality. Sharian found himself arriving alone in the wooden temple that had been rapidly constructed a few months earlier. The other three dozen or so couples created a crowd. Some were holding hands and chatting excitedly. Others looked like they wanted to run away from each other, ‘’is everyone here now?’’ the priest asked. Sharian opened his mouth to say that he was alone when the doors opened and Jhaan stumbled in. He was clearly trying to walk straight but his steps didn’t match and his walking was all over the place. The alphas didn’t look surprised. The brides stared.

Jhaan found Sharian after a painful minute, ‘’there you are,’’ he grumbled, grabbing his shoulder. It wasn’t a sign of affection – Jhaan just needed to grab onto something so he wouldn’t fall over. He hadn’t _meant_ to get drunk but the booze just went straight to his head in the stifling heat. He peered down at his bride, hoping he’d turned uglier in the time they’d been apart, but, no. He was still so goddamn cute. That irritated Jhaan, for some reason. He glared at his bride’s flawless face. He was pale, at least for now, before the Khandarian sun got him. His hair was black as soot and it looked soft as silk. He was slim with delicate looking shoulders and one of his ears was pierced from the lobe to the tip with a series of gold hoops. That was unusual for a lord. But what was most captivating was his eyes. They were gold and that was _truly_ unusual. It was said that the most beautiful man to have ever lived, Ilia Shah, had gold eyes. Now the royals of Kainan sometimes cropped up with that trait. It was rare for nobles or commoners to have it and it was _so pretty_.

Jhaan tore his eyes away, swaying a little as he looked at the priest. He tried to concentrate on his words but it all just sounded like mumbling as the priest blessed the group as a collective and then married them as a group.

It was all very quick and Jhaan was glad for it.

*~*~*

Faelan slammed Thorn against the wall as soon as the banquet ended and they were alone in one of the echoing, cold corridors of the Arhanese palace.

‘’Hello, I missed you too?’’ Thorn said sarcastically with Fae’s forearm at his throat. Faelan noted in annoyance that he had to practically stand on his tiptoes to reach.

‘’What the hell?’’ Fae hissed.

Thorn shoved him off, none too gently, ‘’I didn’t know either,’’ he snapped, ‘’I thought there would be negotiations, I...’’ he sighed, running a hand through his black hair, ‘’a month, huh?’’

‘’Absolutely not a month!’’ Faelan almost felt like stomping his foot but he was not a child. He balled his hands into fists instead, ‘’absolutely not nothing! We’re not getting married.’’

Thorn paused, looking at Faelan in surprise, ‘’you...don’t want me to marry you?’’

‘’Of course not!’’ Faelan exclaimed.

Thorn’s eyes widened and he grabbed Faelan’s shoulders, ‘’really?’’

‘’Is your hearing impaired?’’ Faelan went to shove him off but then Thorn grinned.

‘’That’s great!’’ he looked downright relieved and Fae had no idea why. It wasn’t like they had any say in this, ‘’then let’s make sure this wedding doesn’t happen!’’

‘’It’s not that easy,’’ Faelan finally did shove him off. He flipped his pale brown ponytail over his shoulder, huffing out a breath, ‘’this has been in motion for the last twenty years!’’

‘’Well, then we better get a move on,’’ Thorn said cheerfully and turned, striding down the corridor boldly.

Fae blanched, ‘’wait! Where are you going!?’’

‘’Library!’’ Thorn called back, care-free, ‘’I think I still remember where it is. Are you coming?’’

Faelan had no choice but to run after him.

*~*~*

Jhaan wanted to fuck his new bride.

He hadn’t had sex in three years. Some of the alphas, in their desperation, got together with each other but not Jhaan. He’d always been a loner. He preferred steering clear of everybody and their problems. But now he had a husband, didn’t he? A beta and he was allowed to fuck him, right?

Sharian could see those thoughts going through Jhaan’s head as if he was saying them aloud. He stared up at his new husband, unimpressed, as the drunk stared back, frowning lightly like he’d forgotten what he was supposed to do, ‘’well?’’ Sharian prompted, laying read under him on the bed in their house. The stink of ale was thick in the air. How much had Jhaan drank? He was barely keeping himself up on his forearms.

‘’Right, right, right...’’ the man mumbled. His rough hands came to the strings of Sharian’s pretty tunic that he had arrived in. He tugged a couple times to no avail, ‘’take it awf...’’ he slurred.

Sharian sighed. This was going to be a long night, ‘’we can do it with this on,’’ he said. He just needed this marriage consummated.

Jhaan nodded, agreeing. He dipped his head and pressed his mouth to Sharian’s neck. The first kiss was almost nice. The press of Jhaan’s lip piercing felt strange on Sharian’s neck but it wasn’t bad, especially as Jhaan’s hot tongue followed. But the alpha clearly couldn’t control himself because the next kiss was sloppy and the one after that even sloppier. Sharian bit back his sigh, rolling his eyes. And then, with no warning, Jhaan bit his shoulder, ‘’ow, what the-!?’’ Jhaan bit him again. He was probably aiming for light bites in his ale-clouded head but he was putting way too much force behind them, ‘’stop biting me! Are you hungry or something!?’’ Sharian’s anger spiked.

Jhaan pushed himself up a bit. His eyes were glistening and unfocused. He probably wouldn’t remember much of this in the morning and that hurt, a little. Sure, Sharian had come all this way not because he wanted to be a bride but because he had to go somewhere where no one would follow. Where no one would unravel his lies. But he was still Jhaan’s bride and Jhaan was his husband and this was their wedding night...how could Jhaan gotten absolutely plastered like this? It made Sharian even angrier.

And then Jhaan slurred, ‘’whawas your name again?’’

And the anger reached its zenith, ‘’Arthion,’’ Sharian said through clenched teeth and kicked Jhaan hard in the stomach.

Jhaan was sent flying off the bed with a grunt. Sharian was breathing hard with anger but he heard the dull thud of his body. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to calm himself, _you need him. You need to make him like you. You need him to keep you and protect you. Get your shit together._

Sharian sighed and sat up. He could still make it right. Jhaan probably wouldn’t remember most of this in the morning. He rolled onto the side of the bed and peered over it. He didn’t know whether to laugh or pummel Jhaan with his fists when he realised the man was out cold, on the verge of snoring. Sharian sighed again and grabbed Jhaan’s arm. He had a good amount of muscle on him and Sharian grunted with the effort of lugging his husband up on the bed, ‘’fucking...asshole...’’ he ground out but he couldn’t have him waking up on the floor if Sharian was ever to make Jhaan like him.

Sharian dumped him on the bed and rolled over to the other side, putting his back to his new husband and the stench of alcohol.

*~*~*

Aria expected Jana to consummate the marriage with her directly after the wedding. She was surprised when instead, the second most powerful person in New Vallarta sent her to bed, like a child. The omega girl was both disappointed and relieved as she lay down in her new bed in Jana’s hut, amongst the luxurious furs. She stared at the thatched ceiling, thinking. She’d made good friends with Arthion Fade during the voyage, mostly out of necessity and convenience. In a new place like this you needed all the allies you could get. But Aria knew there was something off about him. He didn’t act like a noble. He was skittish and he seemed frightened half the time. Still, Aria had chosen him as her first friend and ally. She’d have to look out for him. She wasn’t exactly without a past, either.

She couldn’t sleep. Sighing, Aria slipped out of bed and crept out of the room. It was separated by wooden doors from the main living space where the cooking and eventual family life would take place. Candle-light fell from beneath the doors. Jana wasn’t going to sleep yet and Aria was grasped with curiosity. She tugged open the doors as quietly as she could and peeked out. Jana and the governor – Crass Roxton, her father – sat at the table, speaking in low voices. Aria couldn’t quite hear so she slipped out of the room, using the shadows as cover as she crept closer.

‘’...to the west,’’ Crass was saying, pointing to a map spread on the rough wooden table, ‘’here and here, I thought. If we push we could truly expand our measly little town into something great. A city as beautiful as Hida.’’

Jana leaned over the table so Aria couldn’t see the map, ‘’but this would bring us out of the agreed limits, into Myaamia territory. See? Here’s their waterfall and then Banglan, their city...and here is us,’’ she pointed.

Crass chuckled, low and dismissive, ‘’I can read a map, child. I’m not blind.’’

Jana’s posture hunched. She clearly didn’t like being treated like a child even though she’d treated her new wife like one, ‘’what of the natives?’’

‘’The natives will come in useful eventually,’’ Crass said easily. He was a no-nonsense man. He’d make a good merchant or trader, ‘’besides, when we have a second city you can be governess of this one. You’d like that. I know you would.’’

Jana shifted a little to reply and, spooked by her sudden movement, Aria fled back to the bedroom, closing the doors behind her. She lay back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It looked like Khandar wasn’t going to be as peaceful and stress-free as she’d hoped anytime soon.

*~*~*

‘’Princess, your father.’’

Nerideth Eiris turned from where she had been chipping away at grey stone and wiped her sweaty, dusty forehead on the sleeve of her tunic, turning, ‘’thanks, Kharis,’’ she set down her makeshift pick-axe and picked her way through the rubble that would be cleared away when the day’s digging was done. Her father waited for her a few steps away. Nerideth had heard stories of what he had been like before, on the island of Kai, when he had been a wolf man still. He’d been magnificent, half as tall as a human – a powerful, ancient beast. He’d come to Solin to marry Nerideth’s other father as a human. Now, Othelen was cursed for insubordination and on the run. He looked like an ordinary wolf, more similar to a dog than anything – run down and on the thin side, his fur a tan colour. King Jasper’s, his husband’s, ribbon was tied around his neck, wound around a small roll of parchment. Nerideth knelt by her father, untying the message. As she unrolled and read it, she scratched the wolf behind his ears.

_Inspection tonight. Cover. Love you._

Ride sighed, looking towards the palace. It rose from grey stone, like all buildings in Solin Underground. Its towers scraped the cavernous ceiling. There was no sky here. No sun. Of course not – the whole city was underground. Those who lived aboveground, in the real Solin, had no idea of the underground city below them, holding their royal family prisoner. Nerideth had been born here. She’d never seen the sun but her father’s told her about it. Or they had, before they stepped out of line. Ride remembered Fengor’s wrath as if it happened yesterday. The _Mèirleach_ – thief King, as the citizens of Solin Underground called King Fengor in old Kai – rarely came down to visit his prisoners. But when he did, things turned out disastrous. Like when he locked up half the royal family in the palace, sealing off their exits. Or when he’d turned Othelen into a gross mimic of what he’d been before, cursed to be in the form of a measly wolf-dog. But, thanks to his new form, he’d managed to break out of the palace. He ran messages between Ride’s family and the city. He’d evaded capture so far but the _Mèirleach_ was determined to catch him.

The young witch princess turned to Kharis Eridani. He was an Elementalist witch, like her. He’d been seven years old when King Fengor invaded Solin and the Eridani family had stood with King Edgar. For that, they’d been locked up in Solin Underground for eighteen years now. Ride didn’t know what was worse – being born without ever seeing the sky or having seen it and growing up without it, ‘’there’s going to be an inspection,’’ she said, ‘’cover up the tunnel. No more digging until the inspection is done.’’

Kharis nodded. He waved a brown hand and the stones of the floor moved, creating a fake wall, concealing the entrance to the tunnel that the citizens of Solin Underground had been digging for years in hopes that they’d find an exit one day, ‘’will this even work?’’ Kharis asked, gesturing to the tunnel.

Nerideth gave him a reassuring smile, ‘’it worked for the Wall. Why shouldn’t it worked for us.’’ Kharis decided not to remind the optimistic princess that the majority of the rebellion that had dug a tunnel under the Mutzrian palace perished in it during the Great Fire of Amaranthe. Ride turned to her father, ‘’you must hide, papa.’’

Othelen licked her palm and obediently hopped behind the illusion wall, hiding in the tunnels. Nerideth sighed and stretched, ‘’I need to go clean up before I meet Morrigen,’’ she said. Kharis waved her off.

The princess walked through the grey, drab outer edge of the city. Through the eighteen years that it had existed, the citizens of Solin Underground tried to live normal lives within the city. There were two brothels, a city centre, a temple...it didn’t change that it was a prison. Ride walked onto Nobility Street where the original families that had stood with King Edgar lived. Over the eighteen years, more and more people poured into Solin Underground – anyone who still supported the royal family and demanded to know where they had disappeared; anyone who plotted against Fengor; anyone who was in any measure suspicious or disloyal...Ride used to live in the palace but during the lock down, Fengor had ‘benevolently’ let the children out. Ride hadn’t wanted to go but her fathers had begged her to take care of her siblings. Fifteen year old Aldren and five year old Mara depended on her.

‘’Princess Nerideth!’’ came a call that Ride despised.

She forced herself to stop walking, half-way down her street. She made a discreet gesture. A gentle wind that only she felt whipped over her face, cleaning away any residue of dirt while barely ruffling her long brown hair. Then she turned, plastering a fake smile on her face, ‘’ambassador Morrigen,’’ she said through her teeth, ‘’our meeting isn’t until the evening.’’

Antorn Morrigen, a sleazy man in his forties and the biggest traitor in Solin, gave her a smile, too. He was generally a handsome man but his alliance made everyone else steer clear. He was the only person happy to be in Solin Underground, as he had control over it in the name of the thief King, ‘’I know but I saw you walking...I was wondering how you were?’’

‘’Good.’’

‘’Have you seen that runaway father of yours?’’ Antorn pretended to look around, ‘’that mongrel must be running around here somewhere. Maybe I should leave out some dinner leftovers and he’ll come running,’’ he chuckled at his own joke.

Ride gave him a cold look, ‘’careful how you speak of him. He is still King.’’

‘’No,’’ Antorn stopped laughing in a moment, stepping closer to her, ‘’Fengor is our King now. You would do well to realise this,’’ he sighed and stepped even closer, putting a hand on Ride’s shoulder. Her skin crawled from his touch, ‘’princess, its time you drop this foolery. Our King is forgiving. Show your alliance to him and he will be merciful to your father, grandfathers and great-grandmother living in the palace. Think of them. Think of your siblings.’’

‘’I am,’’ Ride said through gritted teeth, ‘’he has already killed my eldest brother. He has imprisoned and separated my family,’’ she forced another smile, ‘’but of course no one would dare speak out against our dear King,’’ she added venomously, ‘’lest he do something horrible to us. Like force us to live in an underground prison.’’

‘’This city is wonderful-‘’

‘’For you,’’ Ride stepped away from Antorn, not able to bare the touch of the traitor any longer, ‘’I will see you for the official report in the afternoon, as always, as the head of the Eiris family. Do not approach me in private again,’’ and she stormed off towards her house.

Antorn went red with embarrassment and anger, ‘’we’ll find him!’’ he shouted after her, ‘’we’ll find him and I’ll make sure that traitor is publicly executed right in front of you!’’

Ride didn’t grace him with a reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, first chapter out of the way! I know its quite long but I've opted for longer chapters but less chapters overall for Bloodline - this way we can maybe not take two years on this one, like we did on Sanctuary xD  
> I hope you all enjoyed this!!! 
> 
> PLEASE!!! 
> 
> Let me know if the synopsis/blurb is a bit iffy or if it isnt captivating! I'm always trying to grab new audiences and this blurb just doesn't sound exciting enough to me but the character limit is such a pain in the ass. Please let me know what you think of it! And of course, drop some lovely comments with your first thoughts on the story and on the pairings!!! I know there have been a lot of introductions but it will be easier to keep track of them, I promise. A lot of characters are going to be on the side for a lot of this story, like princess Nerideth and Aria x Jana etc etc 
> 
> For this story, I have taken lots of inspiration from Disney movies - especially Pocahontas!! Don't worry, the story will be very different though ;) For the settlers' brides I've been inspired by Jamestown, a TV show which I've seen a few episodes of. 
> 
> Now, without further ado, here are the pronounciations and ages of the characters!:
> 
> Elisen ('El-lee-sen') 18 years old, my boi is just chilling in his tower  
> Vaeril ('Ve-ryl')/ Vae ('Vey') age unknown, everything unknown, MYSTERY  
> Nerideth ('Ner-ee-deth')/ Ride ('Reyd') 17 years old, she good at digging  
> Antorn ('An-torn') a bitch  
> Ravor Qilynn ('Ray-vor' 'Kill-yn') looks 19 but he's a fae witch so who knows tbh  
> Aliza Farlane ('Ey-Liza' 'Far-Lane') 19, a queen  
> Dorn Farlane ('Dorn') 16, someone protect him?? Ravor?? Yo holla??  
> Taryn Amato ('Tar-yn' 'Ama-tow') 17, that one good friend everyone needs  
> Calryn Pyre ('Cal-ryn' 'pi-re') 20, a medieval version of a stoner?  
> Orland ('Or-land') 20, #momfriend  
> Azariah Aejor ('Aza-reeiah' 'Ey-hor') 17 my ABSOLUTE BABE love him already  
> Yesanith Aejor ('Ye-ssa-nith') 24, she chillin'  
> Nym Wolfhart ('Nym' like the beginning of 'nymph') 19, he a bandit, he's ginger, he has one braincell  
> Jayse ('Jay-se') 16, gave his braincell to Nym  
> Thorn Hyndestane ('Thorn' 'Hyn-de-staine') 24, future King of Hailbronn what's popinnn'  
> Faelan Eiris ('Fey-lan' 'Ey-rees') 25, our baby all grown  
> Demothi ('De-moth-ee') 19, male Pocahontas??  
> Jhaan Leake ('J-han' 'Lee-ck') 24, why is everyone 24? He likes his booze, know what I'm sayin'...  
> Dain Yahren ('Da-yn' 'Yah-ren') 27, already smitten and its been ONE CHAPTER  
> Sharian Reyyra ('Shar-yan' 'Rey-hra')/Arthion Fade ('Arth-yon' 'Fay-de') 20, dodgy bastard  
> Ariawyn Mormyar ('Arya-wyn' 'Mor-myer') 22, an even dodgier bastard  
> Crass Roxton ('Kr-ass' 'Rock-ston') haha crASS  
> Jana Roxton ('Ja-na') she cool or she not cool we'll see 
> 
> I hope that helps with some of the more important characters!! See you next chapter <3


	2. Fire Dancer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT PLEASE READ! 
> 
> Okay! So! You guys asked me for a family tree - and I made one! Actually, I've had one made for ageees but its huge and I don't know how I could show it to you guys. So I went on Famberry and asembled the basic family tree stemming from the Hyndestanes - it encompasses about 3/4 of all characters, I'd say. The important ones, anyway. Fun fact: the pictures of all the characters have been around for ageees. I started doing them a couple chapters into Dynasty and I've been doing them for each installment. I had most of them nice and ready in my powerpoint presentations - I just had to make some for some of the lesser known characters. I use the Mega Fantasy Avatar Creator on Rinmaru games for free! 
> 
> I'm putting the link to the family tree below! I don't know if it will show up naturally, so I'll give you guys the log in! There's also a section where you can write descriptions for each family member - I write some basic ones but please feel free to add any information that you want! 
> 
> Email: annajdziki@gmail.com  
> password: aniadziki123
> 
> (please make sure to log out when you finish looking so another person can log in!)
> 
> here's the link to the family tree:  
> https://www.famberry.com/family_tree.php?family_id=%223MiPbCg%253D%22
> 
> I'm also working on making some maps for your guys! 
> 
> SECOND IMPORTANT THING!!! 
> 
> THERE'S A SURVEY!!! 
> 
> It's super fun and super quick - basically its ten questions about this series! Things like your favourite character, your favourite couple etc. it takes like 3 minutes so please fill it out! I love looking at the results! 
> 
> https://www.surveymonkey.co.uk/r/MXKDTC8
> 
> THIRD IMPORTANT THING! 
> 
> Thank you guys so so so much for all the lovely comments, kudos and reads! I'm always anxious when I start a new story to see if you guys like it and I'm so glad you do so far! I've opted for longer chapters with less chapters this time, just so we don't write this story for 2 years xD the other installment have between 28-33 chapters each, I think. This one is only going to have 21!
> 
> allforthetwinyards - welcome back darling! Glad to have you here! Haha Thorn x Faelan defo have a lot of Airen x Daran parallels but their stories will go very differently ;) From parallels, I'm actually shook how similar Nym x Azariah seem to be playing out to Kaen x Ilia! Thank you for commenting xx
> 
> hikaru_itsuko - thank you for leaving a review, I'm so happy you're liking it so far! I hope you enjoy the family tree, thank you for the suggestion :D 
> 
> crepesbaby - omg welcome back! It made me so happy to know you're still reading this series! I love the fanart you did for me for empire & tribe, I still have it and look at it often! If you ever do any more art for the series, please send it my way, it makes my day!! (annajdziki@gmail.com). I'm glad you like Thorn & Faelan - and I hope you enjoy their storyline ;) Thank you for commenting darling, I hope you like the family tree <3 
> 
> Liv - yaaay I'm so happy there's someone who likes Elisen's storyline the best! Its super important to the storyline overall! Thank you for the family tree suggestion - I hope you like the one I made! Please let me know what you think xoxo
> 
> poltergeist897 - aw I feel you about Jas & Othelen. Don't worry - their story isn't over yet ;) 
> 
> extrastellar - OMG MY BABY IS BAAAAACK! I straight up screamed when I saw your comment. It's been so long! Hey, hi, hello, glad to see you're still around!! :D Your little summary of the Faelan x Thorn storyline was so cute, I love it xD YES for the squidward memes!!!! I'm not telling you anything about Elisen or the story, tee hee~ honestly I share your love for Kaen & Ilia tho like yes, fave couple, lets go!
> 
> Its very interesting that you dont think this could be read as a stand-alone tho! I guess you're right, I mean the call-backs to the other characters from other series is what I was really going for because I enjoy that so much when I read books or watch movies. I totally don't blame you for forgetting some references - I have everything on my powerpoint presentations, that's how I remember xD As for your question - yes, the academy is in the palace in Queensbane but originally the capital of Rhein (when the four kids were chilling but Aethelfrith & Cedric were still alive and living in Queensbane) was Perth, so Raaisel is chilling in the palace in Perth. 
> 
> 'Ravor is Qillin it' - that's it. That's the best one. Everyone can go home now.  
> #savedorn2020 - even better. Girl, you always make me chortle with laughter xD 
> 
> The storylines will be connected - everyone in Kainan (including Thorn & Faelan) will be connected at one point and everyone in Khandar will be connected, so we'll have two major storylines by the end ;)

For the family tree and the favourite-character survey, please read the top notes! <3

*~*~*

‘’Attention, citizens of Solin Underground,’’ Antorn Morrigen called from the wooden podium built in the city square of the underground city that ran beneath Solin, ‘’your King has issued an announcement,’’ he peered down at the crowd gathered beneath the podium. There were four hundred and fifteen citizens there, all looking up at the traitor with a mix of disgust and murderous rage. Even children gave him looks full of disdain – ‘don’t trust Morrigen’ was something all children were taught from the moment they left their cribs. Antorn had grown immune to their stares. He cleared his throat and read from the piece of parchment he held, the royal seal broken. The Mèirleach – thief King – never came to Solin Underground. Fengor stayed aboveground, in the real Solin, on his usurped throne and communicated with his discarded subjects through letters and messages that came from Antorn. If Fengor ever came down here in person, things would have to get truly bad, ‘’the King kindly reminds you that anyone harbouring wanted fugitives will be executed without trial. However, if someone has any information on the whereabouts of Othelen, you will not be punished if you step forward in the next fortnight,’’ the crowd stared him down, unmoved. The reason why they lived in the underground city in the first place was because they sided with their royal family and not their invader. Antorn gave the unmovable crowd a cold look, ‘’until then, there will be a half-cut on grain imports from above. That is all.’’

The crowd burst out in shouts of rage but Antorn quickly descended the podium from the back and briskly walked off. In the crowd, Nerideth gritted her teeth. It wasn’t the first time Fengor pushed cuts on imports from aboveground in an effort to break the citizens of Solin Underground and have them sell Othelen out. No one ever stepped forward, ‘’where is papa?’’ six year old Mara Eiris asked. She was standing at her older sister’s side, holding her hand.

‘’He’s away for a bit,’’ Ride said gently, stroking Mara’s light brown hair. For her own safety and the safety of Othelen, the little princess was never allowed to see her father. She’d accidentally blab about where he was if she was questioned.

Mara looked up at Ride with her double-coloured eyes. The weaker brown one was covered with a monocle, helping her see better, ‘’I wanna see our papas,’’ she mumbled as the crowd around them began dispersing. A few of the citizens came to squeeze Ride’s shoulder briefly in silent comfort.

Ride looked towards the huge stone palace in the distance, locked away from the world, even the one that was underground, ‘’I know, darling. But we can’t. Not yet,’’ she looked to her fifteen year old brother, at her other side. Aldren looked most like their other father, prince Jasper Eiris – his hair was long and pale brown and his eyes were the same combination as Mara’s – brown and green. He peered at his sister from under his cap, atop which sat night-vision goggles. The torches in Solin Underground often went out. They were all used to sudden darkness, ‘’Aldren, take your sister home,’’ Ride said.

The witchling nodded, taking Mara’s hand and pulling her away from the city square. They disappeared in the direction of Nobility Street. Nerideth made sure Antorn was nowhere around and set off briskly in the direction of the tunnel. She found her father there, concealed in the dark depths of the cave that they chipped at, day and night, trying to tunnel through to the surface. Kharis Eridani was there, accompanied by fellow noble, Arel Eltain. The omega was the son of Thallan Eltain, a cowardly council-member, and the grandson of Ashryn Eltain, the former Duchess of Punta Cana. Arel was flicking a glass bottle filled with yellow liquid between his hands as he inspected the wall at the end of the tunnel. Nerideth walked in, scratching behind Othelen’s ears as she went, and came to a stop in front of the wall, ‘’I wouldn’t use that if I were you,’’ Ride said, ‘’Antorn Morrigen is nearby and he seems pretty anxious to catch my father.’’

‘’Shame,’’ Arel said, slipping his explosive into his pocket carefully. In Solin Underground, there wasn’t much to do. There were hardly any subjects for the nobles to take care of and there was no soil to farm in. People found job to occupy themselves with and most had unusual hobbies. Prince Aldren made night-goggles for the darker parts of the caves. Arel made explosive liquids in glass bottles and used them to bomb the living hell out of the tunnel. Still, no matter how many people dug or how often they chipped away at the rock, there didn’t seem to be a ray of sunlight in sight.

Nerideth sat in the corner of the cave, pulling a small book from her pocket. It was a history book, smuggled in by one of the countless citizens of Solin who had joined the underground city after standing up to the Mèirleach. The princess flicked through it until she reached the section on Khandar, and re-read the passage she knew off-by-heart by now.

_...the usurpation of Queen Chermion Henan’s throne by her younger sister, Wren Henan, led to the rise of the Wall, a partisan movement in Amaranthe, Mutzre, in the year 1028. The rebels operated for the larger part of the year, trying to re-instate the Queen to her throne. One of their main tactics, suggested by the Queen’s consort, Adelais Hyndestane of Kainan, was to dig a tunnel from the city to the Mutzrian palace, under its impenetrable wall. The tunnel came to be known as the Tunnel of Amaranthe and it sprawled many kilometres. Workers worked on it day and night for months on end. It led from the bakery to the trap door in the cellar of the Mutzrian palace and would have worked perfectly if not for the betrayal of princess Damaris Henan, Queen Chermion’s sister._

Ride ran her fingers over the faded lettering. She’d never been to Mutzre. It was on the other side of the world. But they spoke her language there and, though they were currently knee-deep in a civil war, the royal family there was related to Ride. She looked at the faded name ‘ _Adelais Hyndestane_ ’. Her great aunt. She was long dead now, remembered only in poems, songs and history books. What had she been like? Ride would likely never know. But she had the idea of digging the tunnel of Amaranthe and she had very nearly succeeded in putting her wife back on the throne. The Mèirleach may have locked Ride and her people underground, but he hadn’t taken away their books – his mistake. Ride smiled grimly at the pages. Adelais Hyndestane had once again given a Queen the idea of digging a tunnel to freedom, to her rightful throne. The Mèirleach may have killed Nerideth’s older brother, but he had not killed her.

Another mistake.

Ride read the last few lines of that section on Mutzre; _the complete annihilation of Amaranthe that followed under the orders of the usurper Queen became known as the Great Fire of Amaranthe. Most of the city and a large portion of the Wall perished in the fire or the siege by the soldiers just before. The rebels burned to death in the tunnels, though Queen Chermion and princess Adelais escaped death. Many of the saved lives are credited to Empress Ceawlin Aradhaya and her husband, Dreux Hawley, who were amongst the rebels in the tunnel and used explosives provided by the famous weapons maker, Aldric, to destroy parts of the tunnel and escape the deadly fire. The second attempt at the assassination of Queen Wren was carried out only by Queen Chermion and Adelais Hyndestane. They killed Queen Wren during her birth-day ceremony and took back the throne of Mutzre._

Ride closed the book and looked towards the tunnel. Digging. Explosives. A secret resistance against a usurper. It was as if history was repeating itself – but thanks to the book, Nerideth knew what to avoid. Traitors and fire.

Pretty simple, right?

*~*~*

Instead of practicing his spells, Elisen sat on his bed with his knees pressed tightly together, trying to ignore his persistent erection. He was eighteen years old now and over the last years, strange needs and feelings had began arising. These days, it was almost unbearable. The strange hotness came out of nowhere and rendered Elisen powerless to do anything but wait for it to go away. He didn’t know why, but in those moments he imagined hands on him, holding him. He’d never been held before. Sometimes, it was Vaeril’s hands he imagined and then he felt guilty. Sometimes he couldn’t help but touch himself, though he did not understand any of it. It was scary and confusing. Elisen sat on his bed now, his knees locked together, his hands fisted on his thighs, his teeth gritted as he stubbornly refused to think about nothing but the spells he had to learn about today.

‘’Are you being lazy again?’’

Elisen squealed and fell off the bed at the sound of Vaeril’s voice. He hadn’t heard him come into the tower, too concentrated on his erection, and now his guardian stood at the doors, dark eyebrow quirked, eyes irritated. Elisen hid behind the bed, his hands gripping the covers. Most of his furiously blushing face was hidden, save for his eyes – one gold, one green – looking at Vaeril shyly, ‘’don’t you know how to knock, Vae?’’ Eli grumbled.

‘’Don’t you know you’re supposed to be doing your spells,’’ Vae said pointedly, ‘’at this rate, you’ll stay in this tower forever.’’

Elisen grunted, annoyed, but then started panicking as Vaeril walked round the bed, ‘’n-no, no, no, don’t come here!’’

Vaeril’s eyes – one red, one black – narrowed suspiciously, ‘’what are you hiding from me?’’

‘’Nothing!’’ Eli squealed but the witch had already come around the bed. He peered down at Elisen from under his dark curls, which spilled into his eyes. His gaze swept over Eli’s red face, his locked knees, his arms trying to hide him from view...

‘’O-Oh,’’ Vae stuttered, realising, and quickly walked to the other end of the room. His light brown cheeks reddened.

‘’Don’t blush,’’ Elisen whined. He felt silly.

‘’S-sorry, it’s just...’’ Vaeril rubbed the back of his curly head, glancing at Elisen, hiding behind the bed. The boy peeked out from behind it shyly. His long, white hair was pulled back from his face. His jaw was sharp, his face thin. There was no baby-fat left. When had he turned into a man? Vae was a hell-witch. He was immortal and time flowed differently for him. But how could he have missed this... ‘’I-I’ll get you books on this,’’ Vae said, troubled.

Elisen shrunk behind the bed. He sounded miserable, ‘’alright.’’

Vaeril sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He’d never tried to be family for Elisen as he grew up. His only job was to keep Elisen in this tower, keep him safe from the outside world, and hone his magic. He’d been coarse and even cruel with him as a child but he couldn’t help the fondness that eventually came. He definitely wasn’t an older brother figure to the witch. More of a teacher, really. So he had to teach him, about everything. About this. Feeling unusually embarrassed, Vae went over to the bed and sat on the edge of it, his back to Elisen who still sat on the floor. He played with the heavy rings on his fingers as he spoke, ‘’we talked about these... _things_ before. Don’t you remember?’’

‘’We did,’’ Elisen mumbled, leaning his cheek on the mattress and tracing patterns into the furs, not looking up at his protector, ‘’but briefly. Besides, you said these things are to be done with people you love. Who am I supposed to fall in love with?’’ he gave Vae a bleak look and Vaeril looked over his shoulder, catching his eyes, ‘’you’re the only person I know.’’

‘’Definitely not me,’’ Vaeril said bluntly. In the two hundred years he’d been alive, he’d never been in love with anyone. Not in Gehaemi and not here, either. Love was such a foreign, human concept to him and he did not know how to teach it to Elisen. It wasn’t as if his apprentice needed to know much about it. Love wouldn’t keep him alive. His powers would. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to let the curious little thing learn a little about it, ‘’I’ll get you books on it,’’ Vae said again, rising from the bed, ‘’come. Let’s train.’’

They went downstairs, to the basement labyrinth, were a large concrete space was left empty right in front of it. Vaeril rolled up the sleeves of his red tunic and took a protective stance, but Elisen didn’t match him. He stood there, looking a little lost, his white braid like a waterfall falling over his shoulder. With his light blue tunic, he and Vaeril were like day and night, ‘’where do you go off to every night, Vae?’’ Elisen asked.

Vaeril sighed, his stance relaxing, ‘’why do you always ask me this?’’

‘’Because you always say the same thing,’’ Elisen said defensively.

‘’I kill monsters,’’ Vaeril said bluntly and this time, Eli sighed. He’d heard the answer a thousand times before, ‘’so that you’re safe. Once you master your powers, you will be able to come with me.’’

‘’You always say that!’’ Elisen snapped, lashing out with his hand.

Vaeril didn’t expect that. Elisen rarely got angry.

And his power never _burst_ out like that.

Vae only had time for his eyes to widen before he was knocked off his feet by roots erupting from cracks that appeared in the concrete. The hell witch fell flat on his ass and the roots wrapped around his limbs, holding him down. Vae struggled to sit up. The roots tightened on him, restricting his hands movements. Elisen gasped and came running, ‘’I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!’’

Vae gave him a dark grin, ‘’good. See? You’re getting stronger.’’

Elisen was too panicked to think about that. He knelt down by Vaeril and touched his hands uncertainly to the roots, which had stopped moving, ‘’um...’’

‘’Come on,’’ Vae said, ‘’you’re an earth Elementalist. Make these roots retreat.’’

Elisen touched his hands to the roots again, his fingers fluttery and his breathing panicked, ‘’I-I don’t...I can’t...Vae, how am I supposed to...’’

‘’Calm down,’’ Vae said. His voice was firm, quiet and controlled, his eyes trusting, ‘’you did well. Now undo the damage.’’

Elisen’s eyes – one gold, one green – flicked to Vae’s black-and-red ones uncertainly. Vaeril gave him an encouraging nod. Elisen took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, putting his fingers to the roots wrapped around Vae’s arm. He imagined them retreating, slithering back down to the ground and, shockingly, they did. It was that easy. Elisen laughed, astounded, and his body sagged, ‘’that was scary,’’ he said, though he sounded relieved.

Now free, Vaeril took Elisen’s hands, turning them palm’s up and pressing his thumbs to the bases, ‘’it shouldn’t be,’’ he said calmly, ‘’it’s your power. You have control of it. Although,’’ he let go of one hand and flicked Eli’s forehead, ‘’you should never use it in anger.’’

‘’I know...’’ Eli said guiltily.

‘’But,’’ Vae took his hand properly and gave it a squeeze, ‘’you did well.’’

Elisen beamed at him.

*~*~*

Headmaster Kaliq peered at Dorn and Taryn over his desk, his double-coloured eyes narrowed slightly. The two seventh year students fidgeted, averting their gazes. Finally, Kaliq sighed and sat down behind his desk, ‘’did you think we wouldn’t find out?’’

‘’We’re sorry, sir,’’ Taryn squeaked.

‘’Battle magic,’’ Kaliq said sternly, stressing each word, ‘’is for sixth, seventh and eighth years to _learn_ , ninth and tenth years to _apply_ and _graduates_ to _use_.’’

‘’W-we know, sir,’’ Taryn mumbled. Dorn was too terrified to say anything.

‘’I know you know,’’ Kaliq said, ‘’and yet I’ve just found out that over the summer you were using battle magic in Mystic. In the fae forest.’’

‘’Just on each other!’’ Dorn burst out desperately. This sounded terribly like an expulsion talk, ‘’we just wanted to practice so we’d get better.’’

‘’You get better _here_ ,’’ Kaliq snapped, ‘’do you understand how dangerous battle magic is? Before the academy, it was practically only fae witches and warrior witches who used it. Not many knew it. Here, we believe that all witches, no matter what rank they are,’’ he gave Dorn, a witchling, a pointed look, ‘’should know how to protect themselves. But you can’t be practicing it outside of the academy when you’ve barely just been taught the theory, especially not on _each other_. You could have easily gotten hurt. Or killed,’’ he shook his head, ‘’I’m very disappointed in you both. Taryn,’’ he looked to the half fae-witch, ‘’I taught your mother everything I know about Seering. Your other mother is a teacher right here in the academy. I don’t want to expel you. And Dorn,’’ the ginger witch flinched under the headmaster’s serious gaze, ‘’your parents are the legendary Rain and Fynn Farlane. They helped save all of us over two decades ago. You don’t want to be remembered for being thrown out of the academy, do you?’’

Dorn shrunk in on himself, ‘’no, sir...’’ he whispered. His parents’ fame had been haunting him all his life. It helped Aliza shine and reach her full potential. But to Dorn, it was a burden. He knew Taryn felt the same. All the women in her family were famous, strong and renowned – Amaria, a powerful warrior witch princess; Elysia, a famous bandit who led her brethren across the sea to battle; Mairwen, who saved the world from the witch plague; Arlana, the beautiful and great leader of the wild hunt. And then there was just Taryn – a seventh year student at the academy, on the brink of expulsion.

Kaliq pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly, ‘’truth be told, your grades aren’t great, either. You don’t excel at anything. You don’t make the top ranks in any of your classes,’’ his eyes shifted to Taryn, ‘’Taryn, you’re a warrior witch and you’re seventeen already, but you still haven’t manifested your weapon.’’

‘’I’m trying, sir,’’ Taryn said quickly.

‘’I know,’’ Kaliq offered her a kind smile but then turned serious again, ‘’unfortunately, you will have to try harder. With your little misdemeanour this summer, I have more than enough reason to expel you. Give me a reason not to,’’ his eyes seemed to blaze as he stared them down one last time, ‘’prove yourselves as more than everyone else believes you to be.’’

‘’We will, sir,’’ Taryn promised. Dorn couldn’t find his voice.

Kaliq nodded and smiled again, ‘’dismissed. Hurry, or you’ll be late to astrology.’’

Taryn and Dorn tripped over themselves trying to get out of the headmaster’s office. Once they were in the corridor, they exhaled, leaning against the wall, ‘’what are we going to do?’’ Taryn asked miserably, ‘’the only reason we practiced battle magic was so we could be better than we are. It was such a stupid idea.’’

Dorn bit his lip, ‘’I may have another one.’’

‘’Another what?’’ Taryn glanced at him.

‘’Stupid idea,’’ Dorn took a deep breath, ‘’but it may just save us.’’

*~*~*

‘’How dare that stupid bastard smirk at me?’’ Nym grunted, watching the Kåvieh-Dah tribe enter the mess room in the bandit caves. He sat at the head table with Halin at his side. This was, technically, his engagement party. He’d announced his intentions publicly when the bandits had visited the western mountain and now he’d have to deal with the consequences. He’d expected this to be an easy method of dominating the newly arrived bandit tribe but Azariah Aejor had _smirked_ at him. As if Nym played straight into his hands. It was infuriating and Nym couldn’t stop thinking about it from the moment he left the western mountain to now, over a week later.

‘’He wasn’t trying to be smug,’’ Halin said mildly, scanning the Kåvieh-Dah for Azariah. It was hard to spot him, since the majority of the tribe was blonde and wore those horrendous helmets, ‘’there’s no point starting a war with these people, unless they give us a good reason to.’’

‘’Yeah, well, maybe I don’t want to marry him,’’ Nym said in a common display of childishness.

Halin shot him a knowing grin, ‘’bullshit. He’s pretty as hell. You could do way worse.’’

Nym groaned but then sat up straighter as a small group of the Kåvieh-Dah broke off from the crowd and made their way across the mess hall. The whole head table – Queen Meghry, Nym’s mother Pandora, Halin’s father Dani, Elysia, Amaria and the ancient former bandit King, Merin – sat on attention. Yesanith Aejor, who had called herself the King of the Kåvieh-Dah, approached, flanked by Azariah and their grandmother, Barbenna. With them was a bald, helmet-less man in his prime, sprouting a glorious pale gold beard, braided at the tips, and two young women with identical faces. One of them had short hair, the other long – they were both painted with blue like the rest of the tribe. The small party stopped in front of Queen Meghry. They all bowed, save for Yesanith, who simply inclined her head, ‘’thank you for having us, bandit queen,’’ Yesanith said brightly, ‘’may I present my inner circle – my grandmother Barbenna, who you have already met. This,’’ she gestured to the man, ‘’is Lancion Fell, the best warrior in our tribe. And these,’’ she motioned to the twins, ‘’are Deranna and Ayenna Rok, also some of my better fighters.’’

‘’It’s a pleasure,’’ Meghry said neutrally. She still did not trust these people and neither did Nym. He glared at Azariah, who caught his eye and smirked from within the confined of the teeth of his helmet, which cupped his head. Nym gritted his teeth but refused to look away from the infuriating boy.

‘’And of course, I’m proud to present my brother, Azariah, who will soon join your bandits,’’ Yesanith added.

‘’If all goes well,’’ Meghry said lightly.

‘’If all goes well,’’ Yesanith agreed, her smile still in place.

All eyes turned to Nym, who was expected to greet his fiancé. He gave Aza a sweeping, dismissive look, as if he was inspecting a piece of meat and not a person, ‘’can you fight?’’ he drawled.

‘’No,’’ Aza replied easily, his smirk still in place, ‘’I’m a bard.’’

‘’You’re useless, then,’’ Nym said and he heard Halin suck in a breath beside him. She kicked his shin under the table.

‘’If you think so,’’ Azariah shrugged. Their eyes stayed on each other, daring the other to break eye contact first, ‘’my people seem to think I’m quite entertaining.’’

‘’Maybe your people should just keep you, then,’’ Nym said arrogantly.

He wanted to unbalance Azariah but the boy just shrugged again, ‘’if you so wish.’’

It was infuriating. Azariah wasn’t rising to the bait at all and it was making Nym look like a fool, ‘’no, I think I shall have you,’’ he said breezily.

Aza grinned, ‘’I think I shall have you, too.’’

The bandits at the head table burst out in surprised laughter. Nym finally broke eye-contact to glare at Halin who pressed her dark hand to her lips, trying to keep the chuckles in. Meghry motioned to the empty seat at her side, ‘’King Yesanith, if you would? There is much to discuss.’’

Yesanith went to sit at her side and the rest of her inner circle dispersed. Nym was glad when Azariah was finally gone from his sight. His fists clenched on the table. Halin chuckled, ‘’he definitely won the first round,’’ she said, glancing at her sworn brother, ‘’this should be interesting.’’

*~*~*

Thorn and Faelan spent all night in Faelan’s study, trying to think of a way to call off the engagement.

‘’We need a scandal,’’ Thorn decided finally, closing a heavy tome he’d been reading on alliances. He’d been trying to find a different way than marriage to unite the two countries but came up with nothing that would work better, or even as good as a royal wedding.

Faelan rubbed his pale blue eyes sleepily. Outside it was still dark but the sun would come up soon. White flakes of snow pattered softly on the windowpanes, ‘’a scandal?’’

‘’Something that will make it impossible for the two of us to marry,’’ Thorn said, rapping his light brown fingers on the table, ‘’something that will force our parents to think of something else, something that doesn’t involve us.’’

‘’That could work...’’ Faelan said, though he hated agreeing with Thorn.

‘’But what scandal?’’ Thorn mused.

‘’I could chop off your arm,’’ Fae dead-panned.

‘’How about no,’’ Thorn shook his head, peering at his fiancé, ‘’for someone so pretty, you sure a blood-thirsty.’’

Faelan’s eyes darkened, ‘’what did you just call me?’’

‘’Aw, come on, is that a sore spot-‘’ Thorn didn’t get to finish. This time, he wasn’t holding Faelan’s hand while they danced so Faelan drew his arm back and punched Thorn square in the face. Thorn toppled off his chair, clutching his nose, ‘’what in the name of the gods is wrong with you!?’’ he scrambled to his feet.

‘’Don’t be a cry-baby,’’ Fae settled more comfortably in his chair, ‘’so, about that arm...’’

‘’You’re not cutting off my arm to cause a scandal,’’ Thorn snapped, his patience wearing thin. He was tired and he’d just been forced to spent all night plotting with the insufferable prince Faelan Eiris. He sat down sulkily on the chair, pressing his sleeve gingerly to his nose. There was no blood and it didn’t seem broken but damn, it _hurt_. His eyes landed on Faelan and an idea sparked in his head, ‘’how about an affair?’’

Fae frowned, ‘’an affair?’’

‘’If one of us is caught with someone else in bed, the wedding will have to be called off,’’ Thorn said, finally dropping his hand. A grin spread on his face. This could actually work.

Faelan nodded uncertainly, ‘’fine. But you do it.’’

‘’Me?’’ Thorn quirked a black eyebrow and then a sly smirk worked its way onto his face. He put his elbow on the desk separating them and leaned his cheek on his hand, ‘’why? Have you never done it before?’’ Faelan’s furious blush was answer enough. Thorn laughed, ‘’never had your first kiss?’’

‘’S-shut up,’’ Faelan grunted, embarrassed. Thorn sniggered but his laughter died in his throat as his Hyndestane blue eyes flicked to Faelan’s mouth. Had he always had those lips? ‘’We’ll need a plan,’’ Fae said, eager to change the subject. He pulled up an empty piece of parchment and a quill.

For the better part of the hour, they brainstormed ideas. The sun began coming up. It stopped snowing. And Thorn grew sleepy.

He didn’t even realise he’d dozed off until his cheek hit Faelan’s shoulder. The prince _squeaked_ in the most adorable, indignant way and shoved him off, startled, ‘’get off, idiot!’’

Thorn felt his face grow hot, too. He realise how close he and Faelan sat. Their legs had been nearly touching under the desk. His eyes, sleepy from his quick nap, flicked to Fae’s lips again. This time Faelan caught the look and he went completely scarlet, from his neck to the tips of his ears. Thorn felt his heart thunder in his chest. He stood sharply, ‘’fine. I’ll find someone to romance. I’m going to bed,’’ and he left the study room briskly.

*~*~*

Dain ended up walking next to Jhaan into the Khandarian jungle. Unlike Dain, who’d only been in Khandar for six months, Jhaan Leake had been one of the first settlers to arrive and it showed. He spent most of his time in the New Vallarta tavern and barely spoke to anyone. He was three years younger than Dain but it was Dain who felt silly trying to strike up a conversation, ‘’the Myaamia tribe, huh?’’ he said with a nervous laugh, ‘’they don’t seem to like us much.’’

Jhaan grunted in response as they walked through the jungle alongside most of the citizens of New Vallarta. The silver hoop piercing Jhaan’s bottom limp glinted in the setting sun as he finally deemed Dain worthy of a reply, ‘’they’ve been staying away from us till now.’’

‘’I wonder why they invited us to celebrations now,’’ Dain said, avoiding a fallen branch, ‘’they don’t exactly seem friendly.’’

‘’You wouldn’t be either if some random assholes set up camp in your home,’’ Jhaan grumbled. He was a right bugger when he wasn’t drunk, although Dain didn’t know if he was better or worse under the influence of ale.

‘’Still,’’ Dain laughed nervously again, ‘’it’s nice that they’ve finally decided to reach out to us.’’ Jhaan just grunted again. Dain bit back a sigh. This would be harder than he thought, but he didn’t have a bride or a family here yet. He’d barely been here six months and he’d poured all that time into building his house. He was a bit of a loner but he knew loneliness could kill you here. He needed friends. It looked like Jhaan needed some, too, ‘’where’s your bride?’’

‘’Don’t know,’’ Jhaan said, patting the breast pocket of his old tunic. He produced a flask, ‘’don’t care,’’ he took a swig, realised it was empty and grunted again, shoving it back into his pocket. He sped up and Jhaan had to fight to catch up with him, ‘’I hope these tribesmen have booze,’’ he heard Jhaan grumble.

The Myaamia cave tribe lived in the outcrop of rocks that circled Banglan, their city. Dain could tell instantly when they stepped into their territory, because it was like stepping into the faerie realm. The landscape became mostly rock, rising in small mountain-like hills. The ground underfoot was uneven but trees grew here despite it, prevailing. Their branches were decorated with flickering fae lights, rough and unpolished, unlike the ones in Kainan. It looked like hundreds of fireflies decided to sit in the branches and, as the sun set and the sky became darker and darker, the effect was mesmerising. Soon enough, the group of settlers came upon Banglan itself. Huts, houses and tents were all built against outcropping of rocks scattered around the land, creating little clumps of houses and a large, open space in the middle. The rocks wound round, creating the effect of a labyrinth, hiding the majority of the city from view. In the centre of the clearing was a massive bonfire, already alight, and many smaller bonfires around it. Khandarian natives were already gathered there, roasting meats, standing around and talking, preparing drinks...their children, painted with green paint, wove around the legs of the adults.

A noticeable hush fell over the tribesmen as the citizens of New Vallarta arrived. The Myaamia chief, a man quickly approaching his elderly years, stepped from between the throngs. Crass did the same, leaving his people behind him as he went to greet the chief, ‘’Achak!’’ he said merrily, as if they were old friends. The two embraced briefly, but it was stiff and full of tension on both ends.

‘’Welcome,’’ Achak said gravelly in broken Kai to the villagers of the shore, ‘’we are happy to have you here. Hope this starts friendship. We have special thing for you.’’

‘’Entertainment,’’ Crass threw over his shoulder at his daughter. Jana and a few of the alphas around her chuckled as the villagers moved in to sit by the smaller bonfires where Achak motioned for them to. The tribesmen stayed away, keeping to their little clumps. A few came over to serve drinks in hollow coconut shells but then they quickly flitted away. They watched the newcomers with weary eyes until the music began. Dain had barely noticed when a group of the Myaamia sat down with instruments. Now they played on roughly cut wooden flutes and drums, picking up a soulful melody that seemed to match Dain’s heartbeat.

And then that boy came out.

Dain’s breath caught. He looked different now, but Dain would recognise him anywhere. It was the omega who had jumped fearlessly from the waterfall.

His mate.

His silver hair was pulled back in a ponytail, revealing the green symbols painted under one eye. Blue feathers adorned his hair and a red, clattering, brown necklace fell against his collarbone. His chest was bare. Dain couldn’t take his eyes off the omega, who marched up to the biggest bonfire. Framed by it, he stood there, waiting. The drums picked up and so did Dain’s heart beat. He leaned forward in anticipation. The omega was smiling lightly, excitedly.

And then he started dancing.

It was the most breath-taking dance Dain had ever seen in his life. The boy leapt and spun with so much grace it was like he was the spirit of a gazelle, free and unrestrained. He danced between the bonfires and then he came between two, crossing his arms in front of him in one graceful movement and opening his palms. The fires soared higher, turning blue and purple and pink for a moment. Crass and the villagers exclaimed in surprise; Dain laughed in awe. The omega danced on, jumping over the bonfires the moment the flames died down a little. He seemed so unafraid of the flames, twirling between them as if they were his friends. Elegant as a curving river, the boy bowed, low to the earth, and reached out his hand into the bonfire. His hand caught the flames, which now blazed against his hand. Dain gasped, afraid for the boy’s safety, but the omega didn’t stop dancing even for one moment. He clapped his burning hand against his other one twice and sparks flew, like shooting stars. It was mesmerising and dangerous and none of the settlers could stop watching the fire dance. The boy drew both hands against each other, extinguishing the flames. His face didn’t yield even an inch of pain. The music sped up and the dancer made his way to the biggest bonfire, his body pliant and flowing as a willow.

Dain’s heart nearly stopped when the boy touched one long, graceful finger to the flames and the fire blazed higher. Flames ran from the tip of the boy’s finger, twisting around his arms, cutting across his back and whirling around the other arm, like a fiery snake, before disappearing, leaving no mark on the boy. Dain didn’t realise he’d stopped breathing until the music ended abruptly and the boy bowed, low. Dain felt like he could stare at him forever and ever, mesmerised, but the moment was broken by Crass, who stood and clapped loudly. His eyes swept the length of the boy’s body and Dain didn’t miss the way the omega’s smile wavered. But then he grinned again as his own people joined in with the clapping and cheering.

As the celebrations – as strained and tense as they were – resumed, Dain found himself seeking the boy out again. He saw a flash of his silver hair as, unnoticed by anyone else, the boy slipped from the throng of his fellow tribesmen and ventured between the rocks. Dain didn’t know why but he felt compelled to follow. He didn’t know what it felt like to discover your mate but he’d heard stories, of that strange heat, of a feeling like you couldn’t breathe, of the need to be close to them. Could it be possible, that two people born so far away were mates? That they would meet, despite distance and circumstances and roaring differences? Dain glanced around but Jhaan was nowhere to be found and no one else was paying him any attention, so he wandered away from his neighbours and followed his mate. As soon as he got away from the campfires, the night enclosed around him. He wove through the meandering of rocks and huts. He’d lost sight of the boy but then again it wasn’t as if he was trying to _catch_ him. He slowed his step, looking around. The huts were dark – most of the Myaamia tribe was at the celebrations. Dain sighed, coming to a stop. What, exactly, was he doing? Why was he like some creep in the night, following his mate without even knowing his name?

Dain gasped as he suddenly felt himself being whirled around. His back hit one of the rocks roughly and pain spiked through him, but he forgot all about it as he was suddenly met with the face of his mate. The boy had clearly figured out he was being followed and lay an ambush. He was much smaller than Dain, but the strength behind the hand holding the front of Dain’s shirt was formidable, ‘’u-um...hello,’’ Dain stuttered, even though the boy couldn’t understand him.

For a tense moment, the boy glared at Dain with dark brown eyes. Then, he seemed to lose interest in his anger. His hand loosened on Dain’s shirt and his fingers slid to the metal pendant he wore. It was nothing, a silly thing he’d carved in his spare time when he’d trained to be a blacksmith. The boy held the iron star in his hand briefly then, fast as a thief, he pulled the necklace from around Dain’s neck and slid it over his own. The pendant bumped his chest, ‘’oh...um...’’ Dain didn’t know what to say. He felt stupid. The boy’s hands returned, smoothing over the material of his clothes. He seemed fascinated. Dain flushed. These were the first touches he’d ever received from his mate. Dain looked down at him. His silver hair brushed over his shoulder and his lashes, equally silver, were like molten iron in the moonlight, ‘’you’re so pretty,’’ Dain breathed. The boy’s dark eyes flicked to Dain’s curiously and he prodded his tan cheek with a finger, ‘’s-sorry...you just...um, your dance, it was...it was mesmerising. I’ve never seen anything like it, I...I’m sorry, you don’t even know what I’m saying.’’

‘’I do,’’ the boy spoke unexpectedly, in accented, slightly broken Kai, ‘’actually.’’

Dain’s eyes widened, ‘’how do you know my language!?’’ he exclaimed.

The boy shrugged, his hand fleeting up, over Dain’s face, ‘’there’s a man in Hasinai. He’s from Kainan. He taught some of the Khandarian children how to speak the language,’’ his fingers pressed lightly over Dain’s eye-patch, and even though Dain leaned away, the boy’s fingers followed, ‘’you have no eye?’’

‘’Uh, no...’’ Dain said, blushing furiously. His mate was very handsy.

‘’Huh,’’ he murmured, drawing his fingers against Dain’s temple, under the string of the eye-patch, before sinking them into his auburn curls, ‘’what happened to it?’’

‘’It’s...it’s not something an omega should hear,’’ Dain said.

The boy turned him with that unexpected strength, his fingers going down the back of Dain’s tunic, light as rain, ‘’omegas here aren’t like the omegas of your shore people,’’ he said lightly. He tugged Dain’s tunic out of his pants, curious, then his hands clasped Dain’s belt. The man found himself turned once again, the boy’s fingers on the buckle of his belt, close to his...

‘’Whoa, alright,’’ Dain quickly grabbed the boy’s hands. The contact sent sparks up his spine. The boy looked down at their touching hands, curiously, as if he felt it too.

His eyes flicked back to Dain’s, ‘’bad things happen to you when men go after you in the dark,’’ he said softly, his eyes challenging, daring, ‘’what did you want with me, man of the shore?’’

‘’I...I just...’’ Dain licked his lips nervously, ‘’wanted to tell you that I liked your dance.’’

To his surprise, the boy just rolled his eyes, ‘’right...oh! Hey, can you show me the ship?’’

Dain blinked, ‘’the ship?’’

His mate’s eyes seemed to sparkle, ‘’yes! The ship!’’

How could Dain say no to those eyes?

*~*~*

Aria held her skirts up as she walked alongside Sharian through the Khandarian jungle. They hung at the back of the group going to the Myaamia celebrations, speaking in hushed voices, ‘’I don’t like it, Arthion,’’ Aria said, stepping through the high grass and keeping an eye out for snakes. There hadn’t been any snakes in Asakura, ‘’Jana Roxton and Governor Roxton spoke as if they’re planning on invading all of Khandar.’’

‘’I’m sure you’re exaggerating,’’ Sharian said, glancing between the trees at the people that walked alongside them. He’d lost sight of Jhaan ages ago and he was anxious to catch up, ‘’it’s only natural that they will want to expand New Vallarta. It’s a bit of a hovel, currently, in case you haven’t noticed.’’ 

‘’It just doesn’t seem right,’’ Aria pressed, struggling to keep up with Sharian’s fast pace, ‘’they’re up to something.’’

‘’Yes, well, Jana Roxton is your wife now,’’ Sharian snapped, ‘’and I’ve got my own problems to deal with.’’

Aria gave him a look. She was well accustomed to his sharp way of talking after the long voyage together, ‘’such as?’’

‘’Such as making my husband actually _like_ me,’’ Sharian grumbled, ‘’besides, we’re not exactly model citizens either.’’

Aria shot him another look. Neither knew what the other had been up to. Neither wanted to pry. Neither wanted to tell. But their secrets worked like glue, binding the two of them together, ‘’fine,’’ Aria sighed finally. They’d broken through the trees and reached the Myaamia city – Banglan. Their conversation died as they stared around in mute awe at a city rising from the rocks. The buildings of the villagers here looked much more well made than those of New Vallarta. Lights twinkled in the trees. Bonfires blazed. It was beautiful.

‘’I’m going to go find my husband,’’ Sharian said distractedly, ‘’see you later.’’

Aria raised a hand in mute farewell and Sharian sunk into the crowd. He got a few hungry, appreciative looks from the sex-deprived settlers who hadn’t purchased passage for their brides, but he ignored them. He finally spotted Jhaan’s sandy blond head near one of the smaller bonfires. A few of the settlers were drinking beverages provided by the Myaamia but Jhaan sat alone, a little way off from them and staring into the distance. One of the Myaamia girls walked by, offering Sharian a wooden cup shyly. Sharian took it with a nod of thanks and hurried to Jhaan’s side, sitting by him. He extended the cup to him, ‘’would you like a drink, my lord?’’ he nearly bit his own tongue. _My lord?_ His old habits had slipped through.

‘’No.’’

‘’Some food, maybe-‘’

‘’Stop buzzing around me like a gods damned fly,’’ Jhaan barked, giving his husband a look one might give a flea, and swiped the cup out of his hands anyway, taking a big gulp. Sharian sat there, tense, waiting for Jhaan to catch out his mistake. Instead, the man said, ‘’I’m not a lord anymore. So don’t call me that.’’

Sharian blinked his bright gold eyes in surprise, ‘’you were a lord?’’

Jhaan nodded. He looked irritated and at this point, Sharian was wondering if that was just his face, ‘’in Mutzre. My great-grandfather was Sam Leake. He was a good friend of Queen Chermion Henan,’’ he said curtly.

Sharian hummed, impressed, ‘’you must have lived quite a lavish life in Mutzre, sir.’’

‘’I gambled it all away,’’ Jhaan snapped, ‘’and just call me Jhaan, gods damn it.’’

He was staring at the fire, not at Sharian, as if the sight of him offended him. Sharian glared down at him briefly. _You pathetic excuse of an alpha,_ he thought with disgust. But, on the outside, he smiled lightly. Jhaan glared at the flames, his shoulders hunched, almost as if he was ashamed. Good. At least he wasn’t proud of his gambling habits. Gently, Sharian took his husbands hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it in a show of reverent obedience, of love. When he looked up again, Jhaan looked like he’d been slapped across the face – eyes wide, mouth parted slightly in surprise, ‘’I don’t mind,’’ Sharian said, as sweetly as he could.

Jhaan snapped out of it. He snatched his hand out of Sharian’s and finished his drink. Music started and Sharian tore his attention from securing a safe life here, turning to look at the boy who had just come out to dance. His movements were fluid like water and when he extended out his palms, the bonfires surged in colourful splurges, making Sharian gasp and cry out alongside the crowd. When the boy was finished, he bowed neatly to his guests, ‘’he’s pretty,’’ Sharian whispered to Jhaan, gouging his reaction.

Crass Roxton started clapping, slow and appreciative.

Jhaan cast the Governor a calculated look, ‘’he’s trouble,’’ was all he said. Then he got up to go find another drink.

*~*~*

Dorn took a deep breath and walked into the corridor the ninth years were having their classes on, hoping to catch his sister. He was praying to the gods that Aliza was in a good mood and would agree to teach her little brother, so that he may hone whatever skills he may have, and maybe, possibly, not get kicked out of the academy. But as soon as he stepped out into the corridor, he back-tracked quickly. Aliza was outside, a few minutes before her classes ended, and she was with that dark skinned, winged fae boy – Ravor Qilynn. They spoke loudly enough for Dorn to hear what was being said, ‘’...hasn’t been picked up by anyone in over eighteen years,’’ Aliza was saying. Dorn peeked out from behind the wall to look at the two. Ravor stood before his sister with his arms crossed, his face impassive. Aliza held up the work, ‘’I think you and I could find this missing child.’’

‘’Why should we?’’ Ravor said, his voice so deep it felt like it was vibrating in Dorn’s bones, ‘’it’s been on the expedition board for eighteen years _because_ no one can find the child. If you want to team up for an expedition, I don’t mind, but this,’’ he pointed to the piece of parchment in Aliza’s hand, ‘’is a lost cause.’’

‘’Exactly,’’ Liz said smugly, ‘’which means that if we _do_ manage to finish this quest, we’ll have enough credit to get us through tenth year in flying colours. We’ll be golden students!’’

Ravor didn’t look impressed, ‘’I think you’re only picking up this expedition so you don’t have to put in the work in our last year, Liz.’’

‘’Maybe,’’ Aliza grinned, ‘’but that doesn’t matter. You’ll do it because you can’t help but be righteous,’’ she punched his arm playfully and he just raised a navy eyebrow, ‘’so – do we have a deal? We could set out in two days, as soon as we have the approval.’’

Ravor sighed, looking torn, but finally nodded, ‘’fine. Let’s do it.’’

Dorn quickly back-tracked down the corridor. With each step, his heart sped up a little. An idea was already forming in his head. One of his terrible ideas, probably. He hunted down Taryn, who was on her break between classes, like he was. When he saw her, he grabbed her by the shoulders, spooking the half-fae, ‘’whoa! What’s gotten you so flustered?’’ his friend looking him over. She seemed concerned.

Dorn stared at her with wide eyes from behind his glasses, ‘’I have it! I have a way for us to prove ourselves to the headmaster!’’

Taryn sat up on low wall she’d been occupying on the terrace, ‘’I’m listening.’’

‘’My sister and Ravor Qilynn are picking up a seemingly impossible expedition,’’ Dorn gushed, looking around to check that no one else was listening, ‘’she says that if they manage to complete it, they’ll be golden students!’’

‘’Wait just a second,’’ Taryn put her brown hands up, ‘’we’re not allowed to pick up expeditions until ninth year. This will only get us in more trouble! And,’’ she frowned, ‘’who is Ravor Qilynn?’’

‘’Look, I know it’s dangerous,’’ Dorn continued heatedly, ‘’but I’m just a witchling and my grades...well, they’re _my_ grades. And you still haven’t manifested your warrior weapon. If we just practice and hope for the best, we’ll get expelled for sure!’’

‘’Even if I agreed to this,’’ Taryn said pointedly, ‘’you sister would never take us.’’

‘’Aliza doesn’t have to know,’’ Dorn said feebly.

Taryn gave him a look, ‘’what, do you plan to just kind of follow them around and take credit in the end?’’

‘’No,’’ Dorn said, rubbing the back of his head. He hadn’t thought that far, ‘’we could just...stay out of sight until we’re out of the Witchlands. And then when we reveal ourselves and offer help, it’ll be too late for them to turn us back around!’’ he decided on the fly.

‘’You’re mad,’’ Taryn said, running a hand through her silver-white hair, ‘’breaking the rules is what got us in trouble in the first place!’’

‘’And breaking them again will get us out,’’ Dorn said heatedly. He knew it was a stupid idea, but it was also an opportunity to prove himself. He had to try.

‘’I don’t think that’s how it works,’’ Taryn said sceptically but then sighed, ‘’but, fine! I suppose it will be good practice for our ninth year. But I’ll only go if we convince Aliza to tell Headmaster Kaliq we were under her supervision.’’

‘’We can negotiate that later,’’ Dorn said, feeling elevated, almost as if he’d smoked some of Calryn Pyre’s funny mushrooms, ‘’for now, we’re going on an adventure!’’

*~*~*

Azariah smiled, tilting his head a little as Yesanith ran a comb through the chin-length pale blond locks. Yesanith chuckled under her breath, ‘’you’ve always been such a kitten, little brother.’’

‘’You’re sounding very sentimental,’’ Aza remarked.

‘’Well, you are getting married soon,’’ Yesa pointed out, ‘’it’ll be much quieter without you around. We’ll miss our bard.’’

Aza laughed, though he tried not to think about parting from his family, ‘’I’ll only be a mountain away. Besides, I’ll probably spend more time here than there anyway. I don’t think I can stand Nym Wolfhart for longer than I have to.’’

The shell-backed comb paused in Azariah’s hair. The boy turned to peer at his sister, ‘’are you truly fine with it?’’ she asked softly, ‘’marrying him?’’

‘’Of course! He’ll be so fun to tease!’’ Aza laughed, but then his laughter drifted off. He looked at the fireplace, casting a soft orange glow on the room, in thought, ‘’we are a free people. A man thinking he owns me doesn’t change that. Besides...I must marry him, mustn’t I?’’ he stared into the fire. The treacherous flame seemed to burn within him just as it burned over the log, ‘’I must marry someone so painfully ordinary, so that we can finally be rid of the curse of the Kåvieh-Dah. So that it dies when I die, and so that our children will be as ordinary as he is.’’

Yesanith sighed, ‘’we’ll arrange for the wedding as soon as possible,’’ she said softly. Then she began brushing her brother’s hair again.

*~*~*

Dain’s mate ran on board of one of the empty ships that were still docked by New Vallarta like an excited child. He was just a streak of brown and silver as he sprinted back and forth. Dain took his time climbing up onto the deck and by the time he did, the boy was at the prow, leaning over and grinning at the ocean, ‘’I could stay on one of these forever,’’ he breathed.

Dain couldn’t help but smile at that. His smile disappeared as he look with awe at his mate when he turned, silver hair tugged on by the wind and his eyes shining with excitement. Dain felt his heart squeeze painfully. This boy would be the end of him. The auburn-haired man strolled over to where his mate was now pulling excitedly on the ropes by the mast, ‘’I never asked your name,’’ Dain said.

‘’It’s Moth,’’ the boy said, paying nearly zero attention to Dain as he reached up, as far as he could, and ran his fingers over the canvas of the mast, ‘’Demothi Firemaker.’’

Dain smiled to himself, ‘’that makes sense. Are you a...witch?’’

‘’I don’t know what that is,’’ Moth said, dropping his hand and strolling down the deck, running his fingers over the side.

‘’Can you control fire?’’ Dain re-iterated. Both of Moth’s eyes were dark. He didn’t look like a witch.

‘’No,’’ Moth said, jogging up the wooden steps to the other end of the deck, ‘’I make powder.’’

‘’Powder?’’ Dain frowned.

‘’Yes. I put it on my palms. Depending what I made it from, it does different things. There’s ones that make the fire change colour and ones that make it surge. Lots of different ones!’’ Moth said excitedly, nudging his bare foot against one of the wooden chests stacked near the side of the ship.

‘’You’re actually quite smart, aren’t you?’’ Dain mused, ‘’a little alchemist.’’ Moth didn’t reply, gasping as he grabbed a length of iron chain. His fingers flitted to the necklace he’d stolen off Dain, recognising the same material. Dain leaned against the side of the ship, looking at Moth, ‘’Demothi...we...we’re mates. Do you know that?’’

‘’I don’t know what ‘mates’ are,’’ Moth said, completely uninterested in anything but the chain.

‘’It means that we’re supposed to be together. That we’re made for each other,’’ Dain said softly, ‘’that’s what the strange, warm feeling we felt when we first met was.’’

Moth finally stopped and look at Dain, ‘’oh. I was wondering what that was,’’ he said. His hand went to his chest and he pressed his hand over his heart, ‘’it hurt.’’

Dain’s eyebrows went up, ‘’it hurt you?’’

‘’Just for a little bit,’’ Moth said. His eyes were open and trusting as he gazed at Dain, ‘’and then it felt nice. Oh, what’s that!?’’ and he ran off to look at something else, leaving Dain wondering if he fully understood what mates were, and whether he knew what it meant for the two of them.

*~*~*

‘’Hey, ninth years! Farlane! Hey!’’

Aliza stopped. She and Ravor, weighed down with packs, glanced behind them at the two people running to catch up with them. They’d just stepped through the gates of the Witchland academy, setting out on their impossible expedition. They didn’t expect to be stopped so quickly. Aliza looked over purple-and-blue haired Calryn and Orland, who had called out to her. They also had packs and bags on them, ‘’what do you want? We’re kind of busy,’’ Aliza said, nodding her chin towards Ravor.

Orland and Cal came to a stop in front of them. Cal put his hands on his knees, catching his breath, ‘’do you have to run so fast, Orlie?’’ he panted.

Orland ignored him wholly, ‘’the whole academy is talking about it,’’ he gushed, ‘’the teachers are buzzing about someone picking up that missing child expedition.’’

‘’I nearly died when I heard it was you two who picked it up!’’ Cal laughed.

Orland was less amused. He crossed his arms over his chest, ‘’you should have left it to the tenth years.’’

‘’The tenth years had eighteen years to pluck it from the expedition board,’’ Liz deadpanned, flipping her ginger braid over her shoulder, ‘’it’s ours now.’’

‘’Aw, don’t be like that,’’ Cal whined. His bow and arrow stuck up over his shoulder, ‘’this is our last year in the academy. We need all the jobs we can get!’’

‘’There were plenty on the board,’’ Ravor said, ‘’let’s go, Aliza.’’

‘’Look, we want the job,’’ Orland snapped, ‘’we’re older and we have more experience.’’

‘’No way,’’ Liz said, her tone challenging, ‘’this job is the most infamous expedition in the whole academy. We’re not giving it up. Right, Ravor?’’ the night fae gave a firm nod of his head.

‘’Why, you little shi-‘’

‘’Wait, wait, wait,’’ Cal jogged in front of them, blocking their way, ‘’if you’re not willing to give up the job to us, then how about we all go together?’’

Aliza and Ravor exchanged dubious looks, ‘’together?’’

‘’We’ve been on plenty of expeditions already,’’ Orland shrugged, ‘’this case is supposed to be unsolvable. Four people is always better than two.’’

‘’We want to bask in the glory of finding this kid,’’ Cal said with a wide grin.

Liz and Ravor looked at each other again, ‘’I suppose it doesn’t take away from our credit,’’ the Seer witch said finally.

‘’Four it is,’’ Ravor grumbled, and started walking again.

‘’I told you there was no need for threats,’’ Cal said merrily to Orland.

The four of them fell in step with each other, completely unaware that they were being followed by two cautious, excited, piss-your-pants nervous seventh years. Their four was about to become six. And, by the end of it, it would be nine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> TAGS: fantasy, mpreg, beast x human (no inter-species sex tho xD), arranged marriage, slow-burn, dub-con, mild dub-con, fluff, smut, angst, families, first times, first kisses
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> \- Keeper of the Wildwood: a young farmer falls asleep in the woods and is awoken by the most beautiful boy he's ever seen in his life. But the boy is a huldra - a mystical, seductive forest being, stronger than any man, and he'd picked the farmer for his next victim. The farmer has no choice but to follow the huldra back to his home. There, he is given a choice - please his captor, or become his next meal.
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> TAGS: adventure, slow burn, language barrier, romance, sweet, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, comedy
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> \- Dangerous Elysium: a devil King and a succubus Queen have a baby together - a living proof of their infidelity. Afraid of what their partners will do when they find out, they toss the child into the human world. Except with each day, the child grows stronger...the King and Queen charge a demon assassin and an incubi assassin to get rid of their little problem before the child turns eighteen. Except the incubi is a fabulous hoe with a soft spot for the baby and the demon is a short-tempered asshole who won't let anyone harm the kid. With a hotel full of strange employees and a group of fellow assassins hounding their asses, this could pose a problem...
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	3. Ghosts of Tetawken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PREVIOUSLY ON BLOODLINE: 
> 
> * IN SOLIN UNDERGROUND princess Nerideth Eiris and her fellow captives work tirelessly to create a tunnel to the above while Antorn Morrigen, under orders from Fengor, searches for Othelen
> 
> * IN ELISEN'S TOWER Vaeril teaches his pupil about his powers and love as both grow within the young witch 
> 
> * IN THE WITCHLAND ACADEMY Taryn and Dorn face the threat of expulsion if they do not prove themselves. They secretly tag along on Dorn's sister's expedition to find Hilarion, who has been missing for 18 years
> 
> * IN THE MOHER MOUNTAINS the engagement of Nym Wolfhart and Kavieh-dah bard Azariah is arranged 
> 
> * IN THE ARHANESE PALACE Thorn and Faelan decide to cause an adultery scandal to call off their engagement 
> 
> * IN KHANDAR Dain reveals to Moth that they are mated while Aria warns Sharian that the Roxtons are plotting against the tribes. Jhaan reveals that he was a lord wjo gambled his riches away. 
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ!!
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> Thank you everyone who did the survey! If you didn't yet, please do it! It's just a fun little one about your favourite characters, couples etc. but it helps me to know what you like! 
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> I got a lot of responses telling me that its hard to remember characters etc. so I'll be doing a little 'PREVIOUSLY ON' every chapter, just above on the chapter summary, to refresh your memories about what happened in the previous chapters! I'll also link the family tree below once more so anyone who didn't have a look can see who is related to who! 
> 
> I loved all the suggetions for future installments - a lot of them will be incooperated into this story and a few I'll try to put into part 6, if we have one! 
> 
> I'm putting the link to the family tree below! I don't know if it will show up naturally, so I'll give you guys the log in! There's also a section where you can write descriptions for each family member - I write some basic ones but please feel free to add any information that you want!
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> here's the link to the family tree:  
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> Thank you to everyone who has commented, given kudos or just read the story! It makes me SO happy! Please drop more comments if you can!! 
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> Special thank you and love for the comments from lettucewon, hikaru_itsuko & cynicalstars_05 - its so fun to see so many familiar usernames in the comments again! And another big shoutout to Crepesbaby - I can't wait to see your drawings if you do any, they're so good!!! <3

[ ](https://aniaanimation.tumblr.com/image/190858700641)

Here's a little drawing of half the main cast by me! Please read the start and end notes, and enjoy the chapter!! <3

Elisen sat on the window seat by the only window in his tower. Outside, the landscape was as torn and wilted as always but the sunset was pretty and Elisen basked in its light, a book open in his lap. It was a small, leather-bound tome and it was the only book the author ever wrote. It was called ‘the Curse of Rhein’ and it had been written by a King, who went by Meridan. Over twenty years before, the consort of Salar had journeyed here, to Rhein, on an expedition. After he returned home, he wrote only this one book of his memoirs. It was one of the few tomes Vaeril bothered to bring Elisen and, though it was scary, Eli liked reading it. He smoothed his fingers over the page, his eyes scanning the words rapidly with anticipation, as if he was reading it for the first time and not the one-hundredth.

_...Rhein was more ghastly than anything I could have ever imagined, but that what we saw when we landed in Naha, the town of dolls, was nothing compared to what waited for us deeper inland. Some of the greatest horrors I had ever experienced awaited for us in the infamous Moracay Canyon, once the biggest work camp in all of Kainan. But before the Canyon, before Calahoun, there was Mor – and its creatures. As we entered the run-down city, stricken with rebellion in the first months of the plague, there was a movement between the buildings. I did not expect what came out at us. Creatures that were half-dead with plague, alive only with the need to feed and survive. They were morbid things, with broken bones and chunks of flesh missing. They took my comrades – Drest, a soldier, and Yago, before they were chased off. Yago was wounded – they finished him off in Calahoun. I myself buried Drest while the others hurried to finish the creatures. Despite their efficiency, despite Raaisel’s spells when she became Queen...the thought of them out there, alive, scared me to death. I wake still with the memory of them, in cold sweat. They were the true curse of Rhein. Those creatures-_

Elisen jumped, surprised, as a call came from below, ‘’what are you reading?’’

The boy grinned, dropping his book and leaning over the window’s ledge to look down at Vaeril, waiting at the foot of the tower, ‘’it’s so late! I didn’t think you’d come today!’’

‘’I have something for you,’’ Vae said, patting his satchel.

Eli’s grin grew. He ran across the room and pulled the wooden lever. The mechanisms inside the walls clanked as the doors downstairs were opened. Eli waited, buzzing with excitement, as Vae climbed the tower. He rarely ever brought his charge gifts. As soon as the witch was inside Eli’s room, the boy lunged for his satchel, ‘’well? What is it?’’

‘’Where are your manners?’’ Vae chuckled at his excitement, grabbing his wrists easily to stop him, ‘’who raised you?’’

‘’You did,’’ Elisen pouted.

Vae laughed. He seemed to be in a good mood, ‘’you have a point,’’ he pushed Eli gently to the bed, where the boy sat, waiting impatiently as Vae took his cloak off and hung it up, before finally reaching into his satchel, ‘’here. As promised.’’

Elisen gasped, grasping the book Vaeril extended to him. It was beautiful, with the wooden cover carved with vines and the image of two figures kissing by a lake, ‘’thank you,’’ he breathed. Vaeril turned and went to the kitchen. Eli followed him, clutching his book. As Vaeril set down his basket and pulled out food, Eli chewed his lip uncertainly, ‘’Vae...can’t I go outside, just once?’’ he drew his fingers over the cover of his new book that would finally teach him about what he craved – love, ‘’it doesn’t seem so bad, if they make such nice things.’’

Vaeril turned to him sharply, his double-coloured eyes flashing, ‘’it _is_ bad,’’ he snapped, ‘’the world outside is a terrible place, ravaged by plague. Haven’t you read your books? Haven’t you heard enough about the creatures I battle every day.’’

Elisen’s face fell as he remembered of the half-undead plagued that King Meridan mentioned in his memoirs, ‘’I just...isn’t there anywhere good? There must be.’’

‘’There isn’t,’’ Vae barked, ‘’Koln never recovered after they lost the war to the witch hunters. Rhein is ruled by those monsters and Queen Raaisel. You’ve read about that Salarian expedition. You know how terrifying she was.’’

‘’And Solin?’’ Eli asked softly.

‘’Solin has a King who does not allow outsiders to enter,’’ Vae said, matter-of-factly. The conversation was over.

‘’Is he bad?’’ Elisen pressed.

‘’I don’t know,’’ Vae was getting more and more irritated by the second, ‘’I’ve never met him. And you have no business asking about going outside when you care about your stupid books,’’ he gestured to the romance novel Elisen was holding, ‘’rather than your spells and getting stronger. _And_ ,’’ he pointed to the pile of dirty clothes in the corridor, ‘’do your washing. You’re not an animal – at least not _all_ the time.’’

Elisen hung his head, clutching his new book to his chest, ‘’I’m sorry,’’ he whispered, ‘’I didn’t mean to make you angry.’’

He heard Vae sigh. Then, surprisingly, Vae was in front of him, cupping his cheeks and tilting his head up, ‘’I just want to protect you,’’ he said softly, ‘’you’re the only person I have left.’’ Eli nodded. He knew that. Vae sighed again, ‘’come here,’’ he pulled Elisen against him with one hand, resting it against his white hair as the boy snuggled into him. Vae stroked his hair in a rare display of affection, ‘’get stronger. Then you can help me fight those creatures out there.’’

‘’Yes,’’ Elisen said.

Vae pulled away and Eli instantly missed his warmth. He watched as his guardian went to the fire stove and lit it with a wave of his hand, ‘’sit down. I’ll cook today.’’

Elisen beamed at him. Vae cooking was a rare treat.

*~*~*

The last stop of Aliza, Ravor, Calryn and Orland before crossing the border of the Witchlands and Solin was Salaam, the old Moriyan quarters of Kainan. The team chose to camp out outside city limits. It was still early enough in Autumn that the sunlight from the days kept the nights relatively warm.

‘’Ravor, go find some wood for the fire,’’ Aliza ordered, standing in the middle of the grassy side-path they’d picked for the night as the sun set over the horizon, ‘’Cal, you’re in charge of food. Orland, go see if there’s a stream nearby.’’

Orland raised an eyebrow, ‘’and what are _you_ going to do?’’

Aliza pointedly dropped her back-pack and plopped down in the grass, crossing her legs and producing the expedition notice from her pocket, ‘’I’m going to try and figure out how to find our target,’’ she said simply.

‘’You’re just lazy,’’ Orland grumbled, walking off into the sparse forest at their backs. Cal followed, whistling merrily.

Ravor didn’t complain. From the bushes behind which Taryn and Dorn had hidden themselves, the boy watched, wide-eyed, as the fae-witch took a step and disappeared. Mystery surrounded the male but Dorn knew, at least, that he was a hedge witch. He’d never seen anyone open a door and step into a pocket realm with such ease. Hedge witches were rare and Dorn knew that Jasper Eiris, the crown prince of Solin, had been one before he and his family disappeared eighteen years ago. Had he been able to walk through doors as easily as if he was teleporting?

Ravor returned moment later, appearing in the same spot he’d disappeared in with an armful of wood. He made a few more trips and Aliza didn’t bat an eye, used to his power. When he was finally done, he knelt by the stack he’d made and produced two stones, sparking them to start a fire. Aliza stopped reading the faded piece of parchment, ‘’the boy we’re looking for is Hilarion,’’ she said, ‘’he was stolen away as a babe. Born with white hair and double-coloured eyes. He should be easy to find.’’

‘’I doubt it,’’ Ravor said in his rumbling voice, ‘’if it were so easy, someone would have found him already. Who issued the expedition?’’

Aliza brought the notice closer to her eyes, squinting at the faded writing at the bottom, just as Orland returned, ‘’no water,’’ he announced, ‘’we’ll just have to wander into Salaam tomorrow before we set off.’’

‘’Where’s Cal?’’ Liz asked.

Orland shrugged, ‘’I don’t know. I lost him.’’

‘’You _lost_ him!?’’ Liz jumped to her feet, shoving the notice into her pocket, ‘’you know he can only use one brain cell at a time!’’

‘’Yes, because he’s managed to kill all his other ones with the magical shit he smokes,’’ Orland said, not bothered at all as he lay down on the grass. Liz ran past him into the forest as Orland folded his arms behind his head and smiled, closing his eyes, ‘’that’s so nice, Ravor.’’

Ravor stood, the fire buzzing merrily on the pyre he’d made, ‘’thank you,’’ he said gravelly.

Orland fell asleep before Liz returned with Calryn. She was dragging the colourful-haired boy by the back of his collar. Cal had managed to shoot down two pheasants with his bow and arrow – and then he’d wandered around, looking for magic mushrooms. Aliza left Ravor to pluck and cook the pheasants and they ate. Aliza volunteered to do first watch, pulling out the notice again as everyone else settled down for sleep. Dorn, hidden behind his bush, held his breath as Ravor came closer to it but he hadn’t spotted the younger boy – he just lay out his bed roll near the bush, lay down on his back and closed his eyes.

As night fell, Taryn fell asleep, too, nestled as quietly as she could in the grass, but Dorn couldn’t sleep. He peered from behind the bush, watching Ravor in the light of the moon. He was stunning even when he slept. In the darkness, his skin and hair looked black, almost as if he was made of graphite. His lashes were so long and his mouth, parted softly as he breathed in and out deeply, was just so...

Dorn chastised himself for lurking and settled down for sleep. Ravor would probably pluck his eyes out if he caught him staring. The witchling pulled his glasses off, set them to the side and closed his eyes. It looked like this journey would be rather long, since no one knew where they were actually going...

*~*~*

Only a few short days after their last meeting, the bandits and the Kåvieh-Dah had their first marriage arranged. It all happened so fast that Nym could barely wrap his head around it in the afternoon of his wedding day. Halin was in his room, making sure he looked his best. She pulled the front strands of his pumpkin-orange hair behind his head and combed out the rest, so it fell in soft strands nearly to his shoulders. He tugged his three-bead bandit necklace from under the high collar of his black vest as Halin tied his best blue bandana around his forehead, ‘’there. I don’t think I can work anymore miracles,’’ she said, sounding pleased.

‘’Let’s get this over with,’’ Nym licked his thumb and rubbed at a spot of dirt by his wrists, where he had been climbing the mountain in the morning.

‘’What, are you not excited about the wedding night with beautiful Azariah?’’ Halin said cheekily.

‘’He’ll probably bite my dick off,’’ Nym grumbled, ‘’that vicious, little beast.’’

Once Nym was all done the pair of them went to the mess hall in the middle mountain. From now on, Azariah would stay with the Moher Mountain bandits as the husband of Nym. The hall was already brimming with bandits on one side and the Kåvieh-Dah, with their blond heads, their monstrous helmets and their blue paint, on the other. All heads turned to watch as Nym walked to the centre of the room, where Meghry waited in the stead of a priest, as the Bandit Queen. Azariah wasn’t there yet. Nym stopped, stone faced, in front of Meghry and waited. The minutes dragged on for what felt like forever until, finally, Aza made an appearance. Nym expected him to look his best, too, or at least wear his best clothing, but Aza waltzed in with his helmet and his paint and one of the old tunics he always wore. He hadn’t bothered to make an effort. He walked in as if he was coming in for dinner, not his wedding. Nym gritted his teeth and fisted his hands, feeling silly for letting Halin doll him up. Aza came to stand opposite him. The murmurs of the room died down as everybody rose. Meghry reached for the pouch at her belt and dipped her fingers inside, rubbing the soil taken from the foot of the mountain against her fingers, ‘’hold out your hands,’’ she ordered.

They did as they were told. Aza’s hand seemed awfully pale next to Nym’s. Meghry smudged her thumb over the base of Nym’s palm, just above his wrist, in a straight line. She did the same to Aza and motioned for them to clasp hands. Nym did so, begrudgingly. He was beginning to regret picking Azariah even before they were fully married. Meghry produced a length of leather string and tied it three times – for each of the Moher Mountains – around Nym’s wrist, then used the same string to tie Aza’s. The string hung between their clasped hands, binding them together. Meghry pulled out a small, crude bandit dagger and cut the string, giving Nym a nod. Not looking up at Azariah, Nym took the dangling piece of string and tucked it between the ties around Aza’s wrist, tying a knot. He extended his own hand for Aza to do the same. The boy did so with deft, quick fingers. With their knots symbolising their ties to each other, they were officially married. Meghry smiled a little, extending her hands to encompass both of them, ‘’long live the happy couple!’’

The cheer that went up was deafening.

*~*~*

The celebrations were wild and crude and full of drink. Bandits and the Kåvieh-Dah alike drank, played games, danced, sang and challenged each other to arm-wrestling competitions all night long, but Nym couldn’t relax. Azariah seemed to make a point of avoiding him, though it was more like Nym was so insignificant that Aza didn’t think to come and spend time with his new husband. Nym sat with his friends, stewing in his own anger and bitterness, as he watched Aza prance around the room. He always seemed to have something to do; he was playing his gittern and singing to entertain his guests; he was dancing with the children in a merry circle or pulling his family into a merry jig; he was having a drinking contest or he was up on the tables, dancing some more. He was like a bright, shining star and a part of Nym was resentful, because his blinding light didn’t seem to reach him.

Finally, Nym couldn’t take it anymore.

He finished his drink in two big gulps, marched up to Aza and grabbed his wrist. The leather string that now adorned his wrist dug into Nym’s palm, reminding him that they were bonded for life now. And it was his fault, because he’d been so prideful. He probably could have chosen a meeker, easier to deal with Kåvieh-Dah and be done with it. But he went and chose a boy made of black powder, who would explode at the slightest sight of flame, ‘’we’re leaving,’’ Nym barked at him.

‘’Our own wedding feast?’’ Aza batted his pale eyelashes at Nym innocently.

The bandit grunted and yanked on his arm, dragging him out of the mess hall and the celebrations. They went down the hall, to Nym’s bedroom. Nym’s mother, Pandora, had left a bowl of hot water for them on the floor in the corner, with a wash cloth. It was lukewarm now. Nym all but threw Azariah into the room and closed the wooden doors behind them, looking at his new husband apprehensively. He had to assert his dominance. He was a bandit; Azariah was just some measly bard, ‘’take that wretched thing off,’’ Nym said, gesturing to the horned, fanged helmet Aza wore.

‘’I can’t,’’ Azariah said, ‘’its part of my head.’’

Nym’s eyes widened in shock and a second later, Azariah burst out laughing, ‘’gods, your face!’’ he turned and walked to the ceramic bowl, where he knelt with his back to Nym. The bandit watched him take the helmet off, his light blond hair tumbling down his shoulders. Then he took the cloth and washed the blue paint from his face. Nym went and sat on the bed, steeling his nerves. He had to be confident, in control. He wouldn’t let Azariah do as he pleased. He watched his husband’s back intently until the boy finally rose and turned.

All of Nym’s thoughts went right out of his head.

Without his helmet and the blue paint obscuring his face, Nym was even more breath-taking. As he sauntered over to Nym, all the bandit could do was stare. Seeing how astounded Nym was, Aza smirked, ‘’well?’’ he murmured, pulling the string of his tunic free, ‘’like what you see?’’ he pulled his tunic over his head and then quickly stripped the rest of the way, revealing himself without an ounce of shame or embarrassment. Nym sat frozen in place, drinking Aza in with his eyes, until the Kåvieh-Dah shoved him roughly backwards. Nym snapped out of it as his back hit his bed but he didn’t have time to react as Azariah undid his belt and pulled out his semi-hard length, ‘’not bad,’’ he purred, and then he took it into his mouth.

Nym cried out, surprised by the sudden heat of Azariah’s mouth. His hand came down to grip his blond hair, ‘’you...little...shit...’’ he grunted as Aza sucked him expertly, ‘’don’t do it...so suddenly...’’

Aza pulled back with a wet plop, replacing his mouth with his hand as he said, ‘’would you like me to warn you before I do something?’’ there was light amusement in his voice even as he stroked Nym half-way to oblivion.

‘’Shut up,’’ Nym snapped.

‘’And now you want me to shut up?’’ Aza mused, ‘’what is it exactly tha-‘’

He didn’t get to say more because Nym grabbed his head, impatient, and shoved him back down on his cock. Aza chocked as it hit the back of his throat but instead of taking it, he slapped his hands against Nym’s stomach and used the momentum to jerk back, coughing. He shoved Nym’s hand away from his head angrily and crawled on top of him, pinning his hands to the mattress and glaring down at him, ‘’if I’m being nice enough to do something for you,’’ he hissed, ‘’I do it on my own terms. Don’t presume to control what I do.’’

Nym blinked surprised brown eyes up at him, ‘’uh...s-sorry...’’ he managed. He hadn’t expected Azariah to react like that – or to manage to pin down the bandits wrists. Nym didn’t try to free himself, not wanting Aza to get any angrier.

But Azariah’s stormy eyes cleared and he smiled, ‘’good boy,’’ he said, pleased.

‘’G-good boy!?’’ Nym spluttered indignantly but he didn’t get to say more because Aza leaned down and kissed him. His lips were soft and sweet on Nym’s and the bandit finally snapped out of his shock. He freed his wrists easily from Aza’s grip and flipped them over, pinning Aza down but making sure he had room to wiggle away if he wanted to. He had a feeling that the next time he did something Azariah didn’t like, he’d get punched in the face.

Nym broke the kiss and pushed Aza’s knees apart, sliding between them. He prodded his finger at his entrance and then pushed it in. Aza gasped, his body jerking and when Nym looked up at him, there was pain swimming in his bright grey eyes. He offered Nym a grim smile, ‘’I k-knew you were going to be a brute a-about it...’’ he managed, and his voice shook. Nym quickly pulled his hand back and Aza winced.

‘’Sorry...’’ Nym said again. How was this all going so terribly bad, so quickly? He thought sex was supposed to be easy.

Azariah pushed himself up into a sitting position, his nakedness not embarrassing him one bit, ‘’have you ever done it before?’’ he asked.

Nym flushed, ‘’not...not really,’’ he grumbled.

Aza chuckled, ‘’I see.’’

‘’Don’t mock me,’’ Nym snarled at him.

‘’I wasn’t,’’ Aza said simply, taking his hand, ‘’here. You have to be more careful with it,’’ he said, dropping his voice to an intimate whisper. Nym watched, wide eyed, as his bride brought his hand to his mouth and took a finger inside. Aza sucked on it gently, his tongue twirling around as if it was Nym’s cock again. His grey eyes flicked to Nym’s and the bandit gulped, feeling his arousal spike as Azariah took a second finger into his mouth. He didn’t break eyes contact and Nym couldn’t tear his eyes away, either. Finally, Aza pulled back, ‘’let’s try again,’’ he said, laying back down.

Nym slid between his legs again, and prodded a slick finger into him, gentler this time, watching for Aza’s reaction. Aza smiled up at him, ‘’good. You’re learning.’’

Nym scowled, ‘’don’t treat me like a child. I’m older than you.’’

Aza’s smile turned cheeky, ‘’but I’m more experienced.’’

‘’It’s not my fault you’ve been whoring around,’’ Nym snapped.

Azariah didn’t seem to take the insult to heart. He grinned, flicking Nym’s freckled cheek, ‘’and it’s not my fault you’re such a prude.’’ Nym kissed his teeth and pushed the first finger all the way in. Aza hissed, more in surprise than in pain, ‘’don’t be mean,’’ he said, his voice tighter than before.

Nym hesitated, ‘’is this...hurting you?’’ he asked begrudgingly.

Aza shook his head, ‘’but be gentle.’’

Nym nodded. As irritating and fleeting as Azariah was, Nym didn’t want him hurt. He didn’t want anybody hurt. And he certainly didn’t want to be the one doing the hurting. When he pressed the second finger in, he went slower, concentrating his eyes on his fingers disappearing inside Aza. He moved them in and out, slowly, until they went easily. When he finally pulled them out, he was throbbing hard. He positioned himself between Azariah’s legs, brushing his slick head against his entrance. He glanced to his husband for confirmation and Aza just smiled at him. It was infuriating – he’d managed to get Nym into a panting mess in seconds with his mouth but now, even as Nym prepared him, Aza lay there with his breath even and his eyes clear. Nym promised himself he’d make him scream in pleasure as he pushed the head inside.

The heat that clenched around him instantly nearly made him loose his mind. He groaned, his head falling against Azariah’s shoulder. He felt Aza’s hands on his back, stroking slowly, and that made it even better. He pushed inside slowly and with each second, the pleasure built up. He was afraid he wouldn’t last very long but he couldn’t stop himself. When he was buried all the way to the hilt, Aza sighed softly, pleased, but he didn’t make any more noises – not even when Nym started thrusting. His breathing grew a bit heavier but there was not panting. How was this not affecting Aza the way it was affecting Nym? A pin-prick of irritation cut through Nym’s pleasure but it wasn’t strong enough to make him think clearly. He gripped Aza’s hips and thrust into him and when he came it was blinding.

He pulled out of Aza as his head cleared, and he realised that Azariah hadn’t come – far from it, actually. He was barely hard, his cock resting against his stomach, but he didn’t seem angry or disappointed. There was a light smile on his face as he sat up and bent over the side of the bed to grab his clothes, ‘’wait,’’ Nym grabbed his wrist, ‘’we haven’t finished yet,’’ he reached between his legs, determined to do it properly, but Aza just pushed his hand away.

‘’I’ve done my husbandly duty,’’ he said calmly, standing and pulling his undergarments on.

‘’But...don’t you want me to touch you?’’ Nym asked indignantly.

Azariah dressed, throwing casually over his shoulder, ‘’I’m not in the mood anymore.’’

‘’Where are you going?’’ Nym demanded, straightening out his clothes and hurrying after Azariah as he made for the doors.

‘’Back to my mountain,’’ Aza said innocently, stopping at the doorway. He smirked, looking at Nym, still dishevelled and breathing hard, ‘’you don’t need someone to sleep in bed with you, as if you were a child, right?’’

‘’Of course not!’’

‘’Good,’’ Aza sent him a charming smile, ‘’goodnight,’’ and then he was gone.

The doors closed behind him, leaving Nym staring at them in disbelief. What had just happened?

*~*~*

Thorn chose Radagmal Eiris as his target for an illicit love affair – mostly because she seemed like the only approachable one out of all of Faelan’s siblings and cousins. Out of Faelan’s siblings, nine year old Guthale was far too young, sixteen year old Ailas refused to come anywhere near Faelan and the heir to the throne, twenty-two year old Darmor, carried a sword tipped with a _human skull_. If that wasn’t a ‘KEEP AWAY’ sign, Thorn didn’t know what was. Seventeen year old Chamon, the only son of Prince Daimhin, was enthusiastic enough, but his brash and loud personality made it hard for Thorn to keep up with him, much less attempt to woo him. That left the children of Faeryn and Brannen – Aira, who didn’t speak a word to Thorn and _didn’t have an eye_ ; Saromír, who seemed kind enough, except he’d beat Thorn twice in training and Thorn’s wounded pride wouldn’t let him pick Saro; and Radagmal, who took after her mother in her meek and gentle demeanour.

So, four days after the first feast, Thorn began his wooing.

There was another feast, this time for little Guthale’s birth day, and King Airen insisted on having some music in honour of Thorn – which laid down the grounds for the prince perfectly. He spent most of the evening observing princess Radagmal. The nineteen year old princess had dark gold hair, like the rest of her siblings, tied in a bun at the back of her head and sharp, brown eyes. She wore a black, sleeveless shirt under her furred cloak, black pants and carried two silver swords strapped across her back. Despite this, her smile was pleasant and her laughter often rang out across the hall. When the musicians in the corner, hailing from North Arnheim, where some of the old Yamese traditions were still upheld, struck up a tune, Thorn rose from his seat, exchanging a knowing look with Faelan. He walked down the table, past politicians and warriors discussing everything and anything, until he reached his destination.

‘’Princess Radagmal,’’ he said, standing behind the princess’ chair. She turned, surprised.

‘’Prince Thorn,’’ she stood and gave a neat curtsy. He was the crown prince and a future King – his station demanded it.

But he hurried to take her hand, ‘’please, none of that,’’ he said with a charming smile that won him hoards of swooning maids and servants back in Hailbronn, ‘’would you care to dance?’’

‘’Dance, my lord?’’ Radagmal blinked, ‘’I’m afraid I haven’t danced very often.’’

‘’Then I shall teach you,’’ Thorn drew her between the tables, into the empty space, and she went, finally offering him a shy smile. Thorn put a hand on her hip and took her other hand, ‘’shall we?’’ he asked with a wink.

She giggled, surprising him, ‘’yes,’’ she said, sounding sweeter than anything or anyone in Arnheim. Thorn grinned in earnest and pulled her into the dance, leading her so that she did not trip and twirling her till her cape swished. A few of the banquet guests watched curiously. Little prince Guthale clapped his hands excitedly. He was back from the dreary war camps for a few days and he inhaled any sort of entertainment. Despite the war being over, Arnheim still insisted on being a nation of warriors – most children grew up in the war camps, which made Radagmal’s softness and openness surprising.

Their dance took some formality from the feast and soon people were rising, to fetch themselves wine or talk in clumps by the column. Thorn ended his dance with Radagmal neatly, kissing her hand. He felt a surge of victory when he saw her brush, still smiling prettily, ‘’thank you, my lord.’’

‘’And you, my lady,’’ Thorn said, ‘’perhaps you’d like to take a wal-‘’

Suddenly, he felt an insistent tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Radagmal’s older sister, Aira, standing behind him. She, too, carried two silver swords and one of her dark blue eyes was slashed through with what looked like claw marks. She did not hide her mutilation behind an eye patch, but displayed it proudly. She made a few quick gestures with her hand towards Radagmal, who gave Thorn an apologetic smile, ‘’I’m sorry, it seems that my mother wants to speak with me,’’ she hurried away.

Thorn watched her go. A second later, he was pinned to the nearest column with Aira glowering at her. It struck him that she could not speak as she pointed to Radagmal, hurrying away. Then, fast as lightning, she drew a small dagger and pressed it to Thorn’s front, just where his balls were. He inhaled sharply, going very still. Aira narrowed her eyes at him. The message was clear: _hands off my sister or I’ll cut off your nut-sack._

Faelan, who had been watching Thorn’s dancing, didn’t quite catch that part. He’d been leaning against a column, observing as Thorn spun Radagmal around and then kissed her hand, and scowled. The smooth bastard. He was slick as oil. He couldn’t believe his Arhanese-trained cousin fell for him so easily, ‘’careful, cousin,’’ came Saromír’s merry voice from beside him. Fae didn’t spare him a glance, ‘’if you watch him like that, it might look like you actually _want_ to marry him.

Fae tore his eyes away from where Thorn had been dancing with such shocking grace, and looked to Saro, ‘’as if,’’ he spat, ‘’I’m just worried about your sister.’’

Saromír raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest, ‘’sure you are.’’

‘’He’s a scoundrel,’’ Faelan say.

‘’You don’t know that.’’

‘’Fine,’’ Faelan crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring his cousin, ‘’he’s a cry-baby.’’

‘’He was, once,’’ a smirk played on Saro’s lips, ‘’he’s not anymore. Trust me, I’d know. He’s been a decent sparring partner these last few days.’’

‘’He’s not Arhanese,’’ Faelan argued, quickly running out of things to hate his fiancé for.

‘’You’re right, he’s not as awful as we are,’’ Saro laughed, ‘’though he’s still pretty bad. I mean, Hailbronn, witch hunts, the infamous General Niktohal Magana and all that? He could compare with our wars, I daresay.’’

‘’It’s not about how _bad_ he is,’’ Fae said, irritated, ‘’it’s about his upbringing. I mean, look! Parties, dancing-!’’ he gestured to where Radagmal and Thorn had been dancing but they were both gone.

A second later, Thorn appeared at Faelan’s shoulder, ‘’uh...can I talk to you?’’

Fae gave Saro a pointed look, letting Thorn pull him out of the feast hall and up the stairs, to the bedroom he was temporarily staying in. Fae walked in and asked, ‘’what is this about?’’ as Thorn closed the doors.

Thorn turned and said quickly, ‘’we need to find someone else for me to have an affair with,’’ he said.

‘’Why?’’

‘’Because Radagmal’s sister is threatening to chop off my balls.’’

Fae sighed, running a hand through his pale brown hair, ‘’Aira. I didn’t consider her in the equation.’’

‘’I didn’t consider my balls being endangered in the equation!’’ Thorn whined.

‘’Oh, quiet,’’ Fae snapped, then gave Thorn a critical look up and down, ‘’I _could_ still chop off your arm.’’

‘’Why does your whole family want to chop something off!?’’ Thorn ranted, ‘’you’re so bloodthirsty!’’

Fae shrugged, ‘’maybe you’d look better like that.’’

‘’Oi,’’ Thorn said, bemused, and reached out automatically to pinch Fae’s bottom, like he always did to his lovers if they tried to tease him. Except Faelan wasn’t his lover and he was Arhanese.

Thorn was very politely reminded of that when Fae’s instinct was to punch him in the face.

‘’OUCH!’’ Thorn howled, reeling back from the punch. He sat heavily on the bed, clutching his nose, which was spurting blood.

‘’Oops,’’ Faelan said mildly.

‘’What in the seven hells is wrong with you!?’’ Thorn yelled, clasping his nose.

‘’Don’t be such a baby,’’ Fae grabbed a cloth from the wash area and came over to his fiancé.

‘’I think you broke my nose!’’ Thorn accused.

Faelan pushed his hands away from his face and grasped his chin firmly, pressing the cloth gently under his nose with his other. The gesture was almost apologetic, ‘’you’ll be more handsome like that,’’ he dead-panned.

Thorn winced but allowed Fae to nurse his nose with the cloth, ‘’I’m already handsome,’’ he grumbled miserably.

To his surprise, Faelan chuckled. Thorn looked at him quickly in disbelief and his breath caught. He’d never imagined Faelan would look so sweet when he laughed.

*~*~*

‘’You wanted to see me, chief?’’ Demothi asked, pulling back the flap of the tent Achak Ancestor-Spirit used for his chiefly duties.

‘’Moth,’’ Achak said gravelly as the boy entered, ‘’I have some troubling news.’’

‘’Is it about the Shore People?’’ Moth asked. He wasn’t bothered. Achak and the other Myaamia tribesmen seemed to have a dozen issues every day with the shore people. They weren’t fascinated with them like Moth, and they didn’t see the benefits of working together like the Hasinai and Mohigan tribes.

‘’Isn’t it always?’’ Achak gestured for Moth to sit before him. Moth did, sitting back on his heels, ‘’do you know who Crass Roxton is?’’

‘’The chief of the Shore People,’’ Moth said instantly. Roxton was hard to miss with his fanciful clothing and neatly trimmed moustache, ‘’did he do something?’’

‘’He...’’ Achak paused, clearly struggling to find the right words. Moth frowned. He’d never seen Achak at a loss before, ‘’he’s expressed an... _interest_ in you.’’

Moth scrunched up his button nose, ‘’an interest?’’

‘’He has hinted that he...ah...would want to...’’ Achak waved a hand in the air, trying to word himself correctly. He had a soft spot for all the parent-less children of Myaamia, and Moth was one of them, ‘’ _have_ you for his own.’’

‘’Like...as a bride?’’ Moth asked in disbelief.

‘’Maybe,’’ Achak didn’t look too happy, ‘’or maybe as something else. Maybe just as someone to...’’ he cleared his throat awkwardly, letting the unspoken instigation hang between them.

Moth frowned, ‘’but you said no, right?’’

‘’He hasn’t asked me yet,’’ Achak said, ‘’not directly but I expect he will.’’

‘’But you’ll say no, _right_?’’ Moth pushed. The Shore People fascinated him but there was something about Crass Roxton that made Moth want to give him a wide berth.

Achak put his hands on his knees, squeezing them as if to ground himself, ‘’Roxton has been pushing territorial boundaries,’’ he said, ‘’that’s one of the reasons why chief Mekwi of the Hasinai and chief Aditsan of the Mohigan has asked Myaamia to get involved. Roxton must be appeased.’’

Moth snorted, ‘’the three tribes together have more warriors than his measly little town.’’

‘’Yes. For now,’’ Achak said vaguely, ‘’we are not looking to start another war, after barely half a century of peace in Khandar.’’

Moth faltered, ‘’but...surely you don’t mean to _give_ me to him?’’

‘’Of course not,’’ Achak said, sounding a little offended. He smiled a little, ‘’you may be trouble, Demothi Firemaker, but you are one of our own, and we will not give you up.’’

Moth felt a little relieved, ‘’then why did you tell me?’’

‘’I want you to stay away from Roxton, as much as you can.’’

‘’I’d rather leave than become his,’’ Moth said confidently, ‘’I’ll make sure he doesn’t see me around.’’

Achak nodded, dismissing him. Moth got up and went to the tent’s exist but as he held open the flap, Achak asked a question that had been at the back of his mind for weeks, ‘’I’ve seen you with a one-eyed man at the celebrations. Who is he?’’

For a second, Moth considered dismissing him as just a stranger, but eventually he relented, ‘’his name is Dain. He says he’s my... ‘mate’,’’ Moth said, tasting the word.

‘’Mate?’’

Moth nodded, ‘’he says it means we’re supposed to be together. When I first saw him,’’ he pressed his hand to his chest, ‘’it hurt, here. And then I felt warm all over. And then it was gone. He says he felt it too.’’

Achak looked a little concerned for a moment, ‘’don’t get too attached to him, Demothi. Not in these turbulent times. But keep him at hand,’’ he sighed, ‘’this Dain may come in handy if Roxton decides to lay claim to you afterall.’’

Moth nodded and left the tent.

Any normal person would stay in the Myaamia settlement and run at the first hint of trouble. But Moth was trouble, as his chief had said. He headed straight for the Shore People’s settlement. He’d watched them meticulously since they arrived a few years back, hidden in the trees. In the last year, they began expanding their town – most of the alphas from the town worked all day. Crass Roxton did not bother with the likes of them. Moth never saw him near the workers – it was always his daughter, Jana Roxton, who arrived if there was something to be said or done in the middle of the working day. Knowing for sure he wouldn’t bump into Crass there, Moth strolled through the jungle. He knew the trees and paths here like the back of his hand. When the trees grew sparser, he knew he was coming close. There was one particular tree at the edge of the forest that he always climbed to see the Shore People working.

But as he walked out of the jungle, he realised his tree was gone.

The workers were spread out in a choppy line down the jungle path. Most of them had little clothing on in the unforgiving Khandarian sun. All had axes and were chopping up trees. There were more alphas milling around behind them, using horses and wagons to load wood and take it back to the settlement. Seeing all those stumps where trees had grown only a few days ago sent a pang through Moth’s chest. There were so many...none of the tribes ever decimated parts of the forest like this. Moth now understood why Achak was concerned about the expansion of the Shore People. A few of the alphas looked up when Moth emerged from the trees. A few sniggered at the omega, but he ignored all of them.

He’d seen a flash of auburn curls and he hurried to where Dain worked, a little away from everyone else. His long-ish hair was tied back in a short ponytail with a length of string but curls had come loose anyway, and fell into his eyes. His tan, muscular body was exposed as he wore no tunic. He’d clearly put on a lot of muscle from the hard work the town required – all the alphas had. Dain wiped his forehead, just above the string of his eye-patch, resting his other hand on the butt of his axe. He did a double take when he saw Moth approaching, ‘’Demothi! What are you doing here?’’

‘’Why are you chopping down our trees?’’ Moth demanded in his accented, slightly broken Kai, crossing his brown arms over his bare chest.

‘’We’re building,’’ Dain said, ‘’we need more houses. We’ll have families in New Vallarta soon.’’ Moth narrowed his eyes at him and Dain suddenly felt a little guilty, ‘’the trees will grow back.’’

‘’Not if you chop down all,’’ Moth said.

‘’We won’t chop down all of them,’’ Dain said.

Moth chewed the inside of his cheek before grabbing the axe off Dain. He held the handle, flipping the axe in his hands a few times. He didn’t like the feel of it, ‘’this used to be Tetawken’s forest.’’

‘’Tetawken?’’ Dain asked. Two alpha women walked nearby, carrying a huge log on their shoulders.

‘’The fourth tribe,’’ Moth said, pressing his finger against the sharp point of the axe, testing it, ‘’their last chief was a Spirit Dancer. Shaman and chief.’’

‘’That’s...bad?’’

Moth nodded, ‘’a shaman is meant to give advice to the chief. You can’t give advice to yourself.’’

‘’I see,’’ Dain said slowly, ‘’what happened to her?’’

‘’Jahiem Returned-from-Death killed her,’’ Moth said casually, ‘’his son is the chief of Hasinai now.’’

Dain frowned. He wasn’t sure where Moth was going with this, ‘’why did she have to die?’’

‘’She started a war,’’ Moth looked up at him and his dark eyes flashed with warning, ‘’and the other tribes came together to defeat Tetawken. Myaamia has caves; Hasinai has their river; Mohigan their mountain; and Tetawken,’’ he gestured with the axe behind him, ‘’had this forest. All of it. They were strong because of it. Now they are all dead and the forest is free,’’ he smiled a little, ‘’full of ghosts, though. I wouldn’t make them angry if I were you.’’

A few of the workers nearby raised their heads, hearing their conversation. They exchanged uncertain looks. Many were superstitious. But Dain just laughed, ‘’you like your ghost stories, don’t you?’’ he took the axe out of Moth’s hands, ‘’I’m just following orders.’’

Moth shrugged and then smiled slyly, ‘’do you have to follow orders _all_ day?’’

Dain blinked, surprised, ‘’what?’’

Moth shrugged again, already taking a step back, heading towards the forest, ‘’there’s more fun things to do in Khandar than _build_.’’

Dain looked at his mate, feeling the inexplicable tug to go with him, wherever he went. He sighed softly, looking down at his axe. He’d cut down a dozen trees today, more than fulfilling his quota. He set his axe down and followed Moth, who grinned and jogged off into the woods, barefoot.

*~*~*

Loud banging on the doors nearly gave Sharian a heart attack.

He sat up in the small, creaking bed as the banging sounded again. For once, he seemed to have awoken before Jhaan – or maybe the man hadn’t come back at all. Usually Sharian had to rise with the birds to make Jhaan’s breakfast while the alpha, usually hungover, grumbled and complained about all the work he had to do that day. Sharian quickly learned to drown him out. From work, Jhaan usually went straight to the tavern and didn’t come back until late. He was usually piss-drunk and their marriage still hadn’t been consummated. Sharian was starting to worry about that. In the eyes of the law and the gods, they weren’t married until they came together and as much as Sharian didn’t want his husbands drink-limp cock in him, it had to happen sooner or later. Or Sharian would find that a world of trouble had followed him here from Kainan.

‘’Coming!’’ he yelled, scrambling out of bed. He ran down the wooden stairs, equally creaky as the bed, through the cluttered living space and to the doors, flinging them open, ‘’good morning,’’ he said to the young, red-haired soldier outside, a little out of breath.

The soldier blinked. He hadn’t expected someone as pretty as Sharian to open the doors. Sunlight glinted off the golden piercings running all the way up one ear. His black hair looked like ink. His dishevelled night clothes showed off smooth, tan, unblemished skin. The soldier blushed a little and then quickly cleared his throat, ‘’Arthion Leake?’’

Great. Sharian had only just gotten used to reacting to ‘Arthion Fade’. Now he had a new fake name – again, ‘’yes,’’ he said quickly.

‘’Where is your husband?’’ the soldier demanded, ‘’Jhaan Leake hasn’t shown up at his shift.’’

‘’Oh,’’ Sharian frowned, shading his golden eyes from the sun with his hand, ‘’that’s strange. He’s not here, either.’’

The soldier looked towards the tavern, ‘’I think we all know where that bastard is,’’ he grumbled, then turned back to Sharian, ‘’get him to the fields. He has work to catch up on. If he doesn’t show, he won’t receive any money or food. If he doesn’t show tomorrow either, I’ll have him whipped in the town square.’’

‘’R-right,’’ Sharian said, paling a little. Not that he didn’t agree that Jhaan needed a little whipping, but without food, they’d both starve to death, ‘’I’ll get him.’’

The soldier nodded, then hesitated, ‘’you know,’’ he said gravelly, ‘’there are many good alphas in New Vallarta. Ones that could take care of you better. I’m sorry you ended up with him.’’

Sharian looked at him in surprise, ‘’he’s a good husband,’’ he said automatically.

‘’Don’t lie.’’

A little smile tugged on Sharian’s lips. It was quite refreshing to have someone see through his lies, no matter how small they were, ‘’what’s your name, sir?’’

‘’Khalil Vult,’’ the soldier said, looking a little startled that someone asked.

‘’Thanks, Khalil,’’ Sharian said, giving the man a charming smile. Then he closed the doors and went to get himself dressed.

He washed his face and pulled on one of the dusty tunics and pants he’d brought with him. Everything in this place seemed to be dusty. He shoved some bread and cheese into a sack, grabbed Jhaan’s axe and hurried to the tavern. The inside of it was nothing like the taverns back in Kainan. It was terribly dark in here, with barely any of the candle lit. There was nothing but wooden tables and benches scattered across the large room. Stairs in the back led to the living space upstairs. At the bar, the owner was cleaning wooden ale cups. Judging by the dusky blond hair, the man asleep at said bar was indeed Jhaan. Sharian sighed, approaching.

‘’He yours?’’ the tavern maid – a Moriyan woman speedily approaching forty – nodded her rounded chin at Jhaan.

‘’Unfortunately,’’ Sharian muttered. Jhaan was passed out so it didn’t matter.

‘’He’s been here all night,’’ the woman shook her head, ‘’drunk himself blind. You his new bride?’’

‘’Unfortunately,’’ Sharian repeated and the woman cracked a grin.

‘’Don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Keya Mak.’’

‘’Arthion Fade. I mean,’’ he came to stand by the bar next to Jhaan, ‘’Leake, now.’’

Keya nodded, ‘’you’re as pretty as everyone’s saying,’’ she said appreciatively, ‘’everyone’s been blabbing about how nice on the eye Jhaan Leake’s bride is, and what a waste it is.’’

‘’A waste?’’ Sharian sat at the stool next to Jhaan’s.

Keya gave him a pitiful look, wiping her cups with vigour, ‘’he loves nothing but the drink, lovely,’’ Sharian gave Jhaan a glum look but Keya went on, ‘’not surprisin’, really. If I lived a life like him,’’ she shook he head, looking up at the ceiling as if she was saying a silent prayer to the gods, ‘’I’d have tossed myself in the sea long ago.’’

Sharian looked at Jhaan again, properly this time. The alpha lay on his arms, which were folded on the bar. He looked almost peaceful, his dark gold lashes casting shadows on his cheeks, his mouth parted, candle-light glinting off the hoop piercing his lower lip, ‘’what happened to him?’’ Sharian asked.

‘’What, don’t you know?’’ Keya asked, surprised, putting her cups down, ‘’it was all the talk when he arrived with the first batch of alphas. He’s the great grandson of Sam Leake, who helped the Queen of Mutzre win back her throne in the Usurper Queen Rebellion.’’

‘’He did mention something,’’ Sharian said vaguely, ‘’he said he’d gambled away all his family’s riches. That he wasn’t a lord anymore.’’

‘’Aye,’’ Keya shook her head, ‘’but it’s the things that came before that will chill you to the bone. While the plague raged across the kingdoms, Mutzre was havin’ a civil war. It’s split three-ways now. King Rowan’s kid rules the west. He has the old capital, Hida. Leira and Careis – them ones that are furthest up – have formed the Free North. People say it’s pandemonium up there. Most of Mutzre now falls under the nine principalities, each ruled by their own General. Jhaan and his family banded with the royal family, of course, but they got displaced for a while and the Leakes started gathein’ support to form the Wall again. Well, the nine generals didn’t like that – the general of Akita in particular. The whole Leake family got kidnapped.’’

‘’Kidnapped?’’ Sharian repeated softly.

Keya nodded, ‘’lots of them there were, too. Jhaan’s parents, grandparents, half a dozen siblings – and his fiancé. He was only lil’ at the time, twelve or thirteen, and so was his tiny bride-to-be. Akita’s general demanded the family swear allegiance to him and the nine principalities, but they wouldn’t discard their King. Absolutely devout to house Henan they were. So the general killed them off – starting with the eldest, trying to get the younger ones to change their minds.’’

Sharian paled, ‘’all of them?’’

Keya nodded again, ‘’the grandparents went first, then the parents. Slaughtered them right in front of their children, but the Leakes would have rather died than betrayed King Rowan. Akita’s soldiers picked off all of Jhaan’s siblings, one by one and then his little fiancé. They say that by the time they were done, Jhaan was so traumatised he would have agreed to anything. He swore the oath and they started training him to be their soldier. They paraded him around as Lord Jhaan Leake and boasted about one of the Leakes coming over to their side. As reward for joining them, they gave him his estate and the money of his family.’’

‘’Did he stay with them?’’ Sharian asked, feeling a little sick.

Keya shook her head, ‘’course not. The first chance he got, he did a runner. He was fourteen at the time, maybe. Akita borders with the Free North and that’s where Jhaan went. Blew all his family fortune in two years. Gods only know what happened to him between then and when he came here. But,’’ she shrugged, ‘’he’s here like everyone else, trying to make a new life for himself. Not doin’ a great job, though, is he?’’

‘’How do you know all this?’’ Sharian asked in disbelief. He thought he’d had it bad. He thought he was running from something. It was nothing compared to what waited for Jhaan back in Mutzre.

‘’He spewed all of it one of the first nights he got shit-faced in here,’’ Keya said, ‘’it’s like he couldn’t keep it in. I haven’t seen him so vulnerable since. It’s like he shut himself off,’’ she sighed, ‘’maybe you can do something about that.’’

Sharian looked to Jhaan again. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. Did the drink help him forget all he’s been through? He didn’t know. Now wasn’t the time to ask. He got off the wooden stool and grabbed the axe, ‘’let him sleep here, please, Keya. I’ll come pick him up when the work is done,’’ he said and left the tavern before she could complain.

He reported to the fields outside New Vallarta twenty minutes later, ‘’I’m here to work in Jhaan Leake’s stead,’’ he said firmly to the overseer, who gave him a strange look but marked Jhaan off his list.

The work was hard and Sharian was constantly getting weird, curious looks, but he didn’t stop. He did what everyone else was doing – he chopped down trees. It took him an hour just to get through one and by the time the first came down, he was soaked in sweat and breathing hard, but he didn’t stop. Every time a tree fell, he felt a pang in his chest. He hated destroying this beautiful forest. It pained him. But it had to be done. There was a life to build here, but it wouldn’t build itself.

Sharian would raise it up with his own hands if he had to, for himself and for Jhaan. Because there was nowhere else for them in the whole world.

*~*~*

‘ _’Over the border we go, to find the thing we’re looking for! Over the border we go, the river is singing for us so! Over the border we go-_ ‘’

‘’Someone shut him up,’’ Aliza snapped, pressing her hands to her ears as she trudged on. The sun was starting to set and they’d just spent the better part of the day trying to find the border separating the Witchlands from Solin. After Solin got invaded by Fengor, a powerful sorcerer, Queen Raaisel put up wards around her kingdom – it made it nearly impossible to find the way out of the Witchlands and into Solin.

‘’Where are you, Kingsbridge?’’ Orland muttered under his breath, holding the map in front of him like a compass, ‘’it should be somewhere around here...’’

‘’ _Over the border we go-_ ‘’

‘’If you must sing,’’ Ravor said gravelly, ‘’sing something else.’’

Calryn, who had been prancing along for the better part of the last two hours and singing that same song, over and over again, fining more and more words to rhyme ‘go’ with, gave Ravor a cheeky grin, ‘’don’t you like my song?’’ he asked.

‘’Absolutely not,’’ Ravor grumbled under his breath.

‘’Why is he like this?’’ Aliza demanded to know, ‘’he wasn’t this irritating yesterday.’’

‘’He took one of his magical mushroom concoctions,’’ Orland said, more interested in his map, ‘’it’ll wear off eventually. I’ve given up on trying to talk him out of it.’’

‘’ _Over the border we go, though our chances of finding it are pretty low!’’_ Cal started again.

‘’Got it!’’ Orland exclaimed suddenly, stopping.

‘’Thanks the gods!’’ Aliza exclaimed, ‘’I don’t know how much of Cal’s singing I could take before I murdered him,’’ she jogged over to Orland and looked around. She saw only fields and trees, like she had for most of the day, ‘’sooo...where is it?’’

‘’Here?’’ Orland said, sounding less certain now. He waved a hand in front of him as if the city of Kingsbridge would materialise in front of him magically.

‘’Watching you try to find the border has been pretty amusing, though I admit it’s gotten rather sad now,’’ said a merry voice from behind them.

Aliza, Orland and Ravor whirled around sharply. Cal turned slowly with a dopey grin on his face, ‘’hey! You weren’t here before!’’ he said cheerfully.

‘’I was,’’ said a young man, leaning against one of the trees, ‘’you just haven’t seen me.’’

‘’Who are you?’’ Aliza demanded, taking a protective stance. The man was clearly an omega, his silver fringe falling into his eyes, a choppy ponytail falling over his shoulder. There were gold beads on a leather string woven through his hair in an unusual fashion that Liz had never seen in Kainan. He wore all black and two spiky maces stuck from behind his back. His brown skin gave him away as a Moriyan. As he came closer, the team realised he had double coloured eyes – a witch.

‘’Someone who can help your endeavour,’’ the man said easily, strolling over, ‘’for a price, of course. I’m a travelling mercenary-‘’

‘’Diya!?’’ Ravor exclaimed suddenly in disbelief.

Orland looked between the two of them, ‘’wait, you _know_ him?’’

‘’He trained me when I was little,’’ Ravor said, staring wide-eyed at the mercenary.

‘’Where?’’ Aliza demanded.

‘’The Keep of the assassins of Cana Kaale,’’ the man said, giving the fae-witch a broad grin, ‘’hello, Ravor. You’ve grown.’’

‘’Wait, I’m so confused,’’ Orland kept looking between the two of them in disbelief, ‘’Ravor, you _trained_ with the most notorious assassins in the world? When!?’’

‘’When I was eight years old,’’ Ravor said gravelly, ‘’I was sent there with many other witches after the witch hunts ended,’’ he turned to Diya, ‘’what are you doing here?’’

Diya put his hands at shoulder-level in surrender, ‘’I promise it’s an accident. I was visiting the Witchlands and doing some jobs in Solin. You know, they’ve fallen on hard times and all after the whole,’’ he waved a brown hand, ‘’sorcerer king and stuff. What are _you_ doing here? I thought you were going to the academy?’’

‘’We’re on a job,’’ Ravor said, ‘’trying to find-‘’

‘’Hold it!’’ Aliza put her hand in the air, eyes narrowing at Diya, ‘’how do we know we can trust you? How do we even know you’re _useful_?’’

‘’You want me to prove my worth? Fine,’’ Diya said lightly. He strolled over to a copse of trees a few feet away, ‘’did you know that you were being followed?’’ The team blanched and a moment later, Diya pulled two struggling teenagers from behind the tree. He shoved them to the ground before the team, ‘’ta-dah!’’

Aliza stared in disbelief at Taryn Amato and her little brother. The other two stared back in utter shock and horror. And then, a long moment later, ‘’DORN I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!’’

Dorn flinched, ‘’wait, wait, listen-!’’

Aliza grabbed the front of his school jacket and yanked him to his feet, ‘’you have three seconds to explain,’’ she hissed, ‘’actually, screw that,’’ she pressed her fingers to her brother’s temple. The world went dark and a moment later, memories flashed behind her eyes, as if she was Dorn – hearing of the mission, convincing Taryn to come...she shoved him away and her vision returned, ‘’idiot!’’

Dorn hung his head, ‘’I-I’m sorry.’’

‘’Go back,’’ Aliza demanded, pointing a finger at Taryn, ‘’take her and go back. We’re not taking two brats with us. I can’t believe you-‘’

The world went black.

_A voice, as if through water..._

_YOU DIE TODAY!_

_Soldiers of fire and earth. Wind and water._

_Ravor flying through the air, crashing into a tree. His eyes closing as he slumps._

_Calryn screaming as blood erupts from his side._

_Diya in a defensive stance, teeth gritted._

_She herself, with her hands raised, wincing as the shield she puts up strains against a power._

_A great power. It_ hurts _._

_‘’You can’t turn back now’’ says a voice in her head._

_And then Dorn, on the floor, reaching out. Smoke coiling from his neck. His fingers, closing around an ankle._

_‘’You need him,’’ says the voice, ‘’you cannot turn back now.’’_

Aliza gasped as if she’d been underwater. Her vision returned again, this time slowly. She blinked blearily. She realised there were arms around her. Calryn was holding her up, ‘’whoa, there, little lady,’’ he said, sounding a little faraway, ‘’nearly lost you for a second.’’

‘’Liz?’’ Dorn asked, peering into her face.

She instantly remembered her vision. Dorn had been on the ground, they’d all been hurt, what...

What had they gotten themselves into?

‘’Aliza?’’ Ravor asked, sounding concerned.

_You cannot turn back now._

If Aliza knew anything, it was not to ignore her visions. That was the first thing Mairwen Amato ever taught her when she discovered her power. She cleared her throat and shoved Calryn off her, standing on shaky legs, ‘’it’s nothing,’’ she looked to her brother. She desperately wanted to send him home, but the vision had told her not to. It was fine. She’d protect him. It would be _fine_ , ‘’you can come with us for now.’’

The whole team gaped. Dorn looked the most shocked, ‘’ _what_!?’’

‘’You’re a useless dumbass,’’ Aliza snapped, ‘’you’ll get yourself killed trying to get back to the academy alone. We’ll take you back when we return.’’

Dorn looked to Taryn in awe. Taryn stared back. They couldn’t believe the plan actually worked. Aliza turned to Diya, ‘’you,’’ she said, ‘’can come with us. _If_ you show us where the border is.’’

‘’Liz...’’ Orland said, sounding confused and a little weary.

Diya grinned, ‘’it’s a silver piece a day for my services.’’

‘’Fine,’’ Aliza snapped. She wasn’t even sure if they had that much, but one thing was for certain – Diya had been in her vision and she _couldn’t_ ignore it.

‘’Wait, Aliza!’’ Orland exclaimed now.

‘’I’ve made my decision,’’ she brought the expedition notice out of her pocket, ‘’Ravor and I took on the job but if _anyone_ ,’’ she glared at all those gathered before her, ‘’has an issue with it, you can go back to the academy and pick yourself a different expedition,’’ then she shoved the notice back into her pocket.

For a long, shocked moment, no one said anything.

It was Calryn who finally exclaimed merrily, ‘’follow the leader!’’

‘’Exactly,’’ Aliza said, looking at all of them. She hoped to the gods she wasn’t leading them to their doom – and she hoped the voice in her head knew what it was doing, ‘’follow me,’’ she jabbed a thumb at Diya, ‘’or, currently, him.’’

Diya’s grin grew and he extended a hand to his left, ‘’right this way!’’

*~*~*

After a hard day’s work, all Sharian wanted to do was sleep. He left out some bread and butter for Jhaan for when he decided to return and went up to bed.

He was shocked to find his husband already there.

‘’There you are,’’ Jhaan said. He was sitting on the bed, looking grumpy, ‘’where were you all day?’’

Had Sharian not known what Jhaan had been through, he would have felt annoyed and angry. As it stood, he just felt overwhelming sadness. He went to the alpha, ‘’nowhere. Have you been drinking again?’’

‘’No,’’ Jhaan said, though he was clearly lying. He extended out a hand, ‘’get over here.’’

Sharian reached him and slipped his hand into Jhaan’s, but the alpha just yanked on him unceremoniously. Sharian yelped as he found himself tumbling into bed with his drunken husband. Jhaan pinned him down, leaning over him. His eyes were half closed and glazed over with lust. He was drunk, but not as much as most nights, ‘’you smell like a brewery,’’ Sharian said before he could catch himself. He needed this. He needed for this to happen so he could truly belong here – so he could stay here, no matter what. So Jhaan had an obligation to protect him despite of what may come on one of the ships constantly docking at the makeshift port of New Vallarta.

Jhaan grabbed Sharian’s face harshly between his calloused fingers and turned his head roughly to the side, against the pillow, ‘’you don’t have to kiss me,’’ he said and he sounded so _unfeeling_ that Sharian’s chest suddenly tightened. He didn’t bother even undressing Sharian properly. His drunken fingers fumbled clumsily at his belt, undoing it. Sharian turned his head to him again, wanting, desperately, for his husband to look at him. To kiss him, even if he’d taste of ale. To do anything, for there to _be_ anything. But Jhaan looked so detached, working on Sharian’s belt as if he was saddling up a horse or fixing a trinket. Even the lust in his eyes disappeared when faced with the difficulty of the belt.

Finally, Jhaan managed to get the belt to come off. He yanked Sharian’s dusty trousers off and then, unceremoniously, his underwear. When he slid between Sharian’s thighs, he looked the other way, at the wall and it _hurt_. Sharian wasn’t in love with his husband by a long shot but this was supposed to be special, wasn’t it? That’s what Arthion always told him. He had looked forward to it, when he finally got married. Coming together with your husband or wife was supposed to be special and loving, but Jhaan was staring at the other wall and he was drunk and, when his fingers pressed inside Sharian it was rough and painful.

Tears stung Sharian’s golden eyes at the sudden pain and, from then, it was all too easy to start crying. Sharian hadn’t realised he hadn’t cried since he set foot on the ship to Khandar and there was a lot to cry about. The grief of losing a friend. The fear and guilt of running away. The anxiety that someone would catch his lie now that he was here. The stress and nerves and more fear at being in this strange, new, unfamiliar place. It all came flooding out and a sob broke through Sharian’s lips before he managed to clamp his hand against his mouth.

Even though he was drunk, Jhaan heard the sob and he stopped abruptly, looking sharply to his husband. When he saw the tears streaming down his face, he quickly removed his fingers. With his other hand, he grabbed Sharian’s face, gentler now, and turned it his way, but now Sharian couldn’t look him in the eye. He squeezed his eyes shut, tears falling down his face as he bit back another sob, ‘’hey, hey...’’ Jhaan said, probably aiming to be comforting but he just sounded panicked, ‘’I’m sorry, hey, look at me...’’ when Sharian didn’t, Jhaan sighed, and cupped his face. It was the first gentle touch they shared but then Jhaan said, in a warm, soft voice, trying to offer comfort, ‘’Don’t cry, Arthion.’’

_Arthion._

Not Sharian, but Arthion. Jhaan, a broken man, was trying to comfort a liar, someone whose true name he didn’t even know. In that moment, Sharian would have given anything for Jhaan to say ‘don’t cry, Sharian’. To hold him and whisper sweet nothing in his ear and promise that no one would hurt him, not here. But as Sharian’s tears came faster and he couldn’t control his sobs anymore, Jhaan withdrew. He knew he was making the situation worse and he didn’t know how to fix it. He got off the bed, even though Sharian desperately wanted him to stay. He didn’t want to be alone. But Jhaan just clumsily grabbed the furs, slid them over Sharian’s trembling body and then, stumbling, went downstairs to sleep on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you enjoyed this long ass chapter! If you like my style of writing or want to request a story, please check out my page (patr-you-know-what) with 30+ short bl stories, and the next 3 chapters of 013: Hawthorne, for just $1! It would mean the world if you could support me <3 
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	4. The Last Cursed Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PREVIOUSLY ON BLOODLINE  
> In Solin Underground, the Usurper's searches for Othelen, who runs messages between the captive royal family and princess Nerideth, who co-ordinates the digging efforts.  
> In Elisen's tower, the young witch's powers grow, but so does his desire, which he learns more about from a fairytale book given to him by his guardian, Vaeril.  
> At the Witchlands border, the academy team meet Diya, an assassin, who reveals that Dorn and Taryn have been following the group. Diya joins the team and helps them across the border into occupied Solin.  
> In Arnheim, Thorn's plan to seduce princess Radagmal backfires when her sister, Aira, interferes. Thorn and Faelan search for a different way to create a scandal that will call off their wedding.  
> In Khandar, Moth is told that governor Crass is interested in him and he seeks out his mate, Dain. Meanwhile, Sharian takes over his drunken husbands work duties. Sharian frets because their marriage is not yet consumated and so there is nothing to keep him in Khandar, should anything happen...  
> In the Moher Mountains, Nym and Azariah get married, but Aza refuses to stay the night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! So, a couple of things... 
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> 1.) PLEASE DO THE SURVEY IF YOU HAVEN'T YET! It's pretty fun - your fave characters, installment, couples, side couples etc. but also some valuable feed-back that helps me to improve your experience - for example, that's why we now have the 'before on Bloodline' section, as I've been told its hard to follow so many storylines! 
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> 2.) I was thinking of actually reverting back to the old way of things aka shorter chapters/more chapters. These chapters are turning out super long, so would you guys mind if I chopped them up a bit? THere'd be more chapters but hopefully that would allow for more frequent updates, because sometimes just writing so much kills me and I have to divide it up between a few weeks, which is why it takes so long. 
> 
> 3.) thank you so much to all my supporters, especially my reviewers! It's so nice to know that the story is being enjoyed!!  
> Special love & kisses for hikaru_itsuko, cynicalstars__05 and Liv for commenting last chapter! <3

~PLEASE READ THE BEGINNING AND END NOTES!!~

Nerideth entered the tunnel running through the stone walls of Solin Underground, wholly accustomed to having grit rain down on her long, brown hair. Judging by the rumbling sounds deep in the tunnel, Arel Eltain was going wild with his home-made explosives. As Ride walked, she couldn’t help and smile. They’ve made good progress, even if they weren’t sure how much longer they’d have to dig for. She walked into the furthest depths of the tunnel and stopped a few feet away from where Arel stood. His long, silver hair was braided down his back and he didn’t seem to notice Ride as he threw a glass vial filled with yellow liquid at the end of the tunnel. The liquid exploded. The rock rumbled and trembled. It wasn’t unusual for Solin Underground to experience earthquakes so the explosives went largely unnoticed. Othelen was with Arel, curled by his wooden box filled with explosives, his fur matted and dirty, ‘’hello, father,’’ Ride knelt by him and he padded over to her. She smiled and scratched behind his ears while he licked her cheek. She rose, ‘’hey, Arel.’’

‘’Your highness,’’ the omega bent down and swiped another bottle, balancing it in his hand, ‘’any news?’’

‘’The usual,’’ Ride shrugged, ‘’Antorn Morrigen wants us to know that if the Mèirleach finds out that we’re harbouring my father, none of us will ever see the light of day.’’

Arel rolled his pale eyes, ‘’we won’t see the light of day anyway,’’ he threw the next explosive and it burst, breaking down rock that tumbled before Arel like a stone waterfall. It would take ages to clear them away, ‘’unless we make a path.’’

Ride nodded, glancing at her father, ‘’I think it’s best if you go back to the palace for now. They won’t look for you in the spot you’re supposed to be in anyway,’’ Othelen looked at her with understanding brown eyes. Ride pulled a letter from the folds of her dress, extending it to the cursed man. He took it between his jaws and Ride dropped a quick kiss on his head. Othelen bound off, taking the side streets to get back to the underground palace, mirroring the real one above. Ride snatched up one of the shovels leaning against the wall, ‘’let’s keep digging.’’

*~*~*

Dorn had been born in Mystic and spent most of his teenage years in the Witchlands, at the academy. He’d never been to Solin. When the invader King Fengor took over, Queen Raaisel created an annual portal to take students from Mystic back to the academy, so they’d avoid going through Solin all together. Now, as Dorn walked into Kingsbridge he couldn’t help but be grateful that he’d never had to be in Solin before.

The air reeked of fear.

Autumn in the Witchlands had been chilly, but full of vibrant colours and filled with life. Here, autumn was...dead. It was hard to believe that over twenty years ago, the Witchlands had been a dead, plagued kingdom, and not Solin, ‘’what happened here?’’ Taryn breathed. She tucked the hood of her cloak tighter around her silver-white hair and pointed ears.

‘’I don’t think anything _happened_ ,’’ Orland said, looking around wearily, ‘’I think this is just how it is now.’’

Kingsbridge was a town that sat on top of the Sorata river, which used to cut through Solin and Rhein, cupping Queensbane and Queensport on the Witchland side. Here, it slugged lazily through an eerily quiet town. It had a greenish tint to it, as if it wasn’t quite healthy, and the trees that grew along it were wilted and withered. A huge moat bridge rose over it, imposing and dark. There were guards high above along the walls. It looked almost like a keep on two long, stone legs that slammed into the river. Jagged hills were visible beyond it, before the Sorata curved. The town itself looked like it should have been shrouded in mist, but wasn’t – it was just gloomy. There were lights on in some windows – Dorn hadn’t even noticed when the sun had set. A few glum figures skittered between the buildings but everyone seemed to be boarded up in their own houses by now.

‘’Right,’’ Aliza said, inspecting her team, ‘’Ravor and I will ask around for this Hilarion that we’re looking for. Taryn, you’re coming with me,’’ the half-fae witch flinched at being addressed but nodded quickly. Aliza scared her as much as she scared Dorn, ‘’Orland and Diya, try to find a lodging for the night,’’ her eyes – one burnt auburn, like Dorn’s, the other green – zeroed in on Calryn and Dorn, ‘’you two, _stay here_.’’

‘’What? Why?’’ Calryn whined, lifting up his boot and peering in disgust at the wet pavement. All of Kingsbridge seemed sloshed with the grim, green waters of the Sorata.

‘’Because you two can’t be trusted with anything,’’ Aliza said coldly, glancing between them, ‘’we’ll come fetch you when we’re done. _Don’t_ get into trouble,’’ she turned to go.

‘’But-‘’ Dorn hated feeling useless and this whole mission was so he could prove himself. He hated being treated like a child but he was silenced by one sharp look from his sister. He looked to Ravor, but the night fae didn’t even glance at him as he took a step through an invisible door and disappeared. Taryn scrambled to follow Aliza into town.

‘’Laters,’’ Diya said brightly and followed Orland, who had his nose stuck in his map again.

Dorn sighed, feeling dejected. He wanted to sit down but didn’t want to risk catching something from the murky puddles that peppered the pavement, ‘’assholes,’’ Cal grunted and pulled out a pipe. When he lit it, the tip glowed purple, then blue, then green. When he exhaled, the smoke was all sorts of shimmering colours. He smiled, relaxing, and extended the pipe to Dorn, ‘’want some?’’

‘’Uh...n-no, thank you,’’ Dorn said, glancing dubiously at his senior. The purple-blue hair, the strange orange-pink eyes, the scatter of freckles...Cal was one strange looking fellow, especially with the dark Kingsbridge as the backdrop.

‘’Shall we have a look around?’’ Cal was already heading away from the river and towards the buildings.

‘’Aliza told us not to move!’’ Dorn called after him worriedly.

Cal chuckled, ‘’and do you always do what your sister tells you, squirt?’’

Dorn felt himself flush. Cal was right. He may have followed Aliza on this mission and she may have become the leader, but he had goals of his own – and he would obtain them. He’d prove himself – and he couldn’t do that if he just stood around and let others do the hard work. He jogged after Cal as they entered the town properly.

‘’Oh, look – a notice board!’’ Cal said cheerfully.

There was indeed a notice board. The rotting, wooden letters atop it read – KINGSBRIDGE. Below was where the notices and events of the town were supposed to be posted, but most pieces of parchment were old, yellowed and faded, ‘’how bad is this King? Fengor?’’ Dorn asked, coming up to the board. He wondered when was the last time someone put up a notice on it.

‘’Bad,’’ Cal said, taking a drag of his pipe again, ‘’rumour has it that even Queen Raaisel is afraid of him.’’

Dorn shuddered at the thought of it. He hadn’t met Queen Raaisel before but he’d heard stories. She was called the Dealer of Nightmares, the soul taker...he couldn’t even begin to imagine what could trump that. He turned his attention back to the board and something snagged it – a familiar looking piece of parchment, ‘’hey, isn’t that the missing person notice?’’

Cal leaned over his shoulder, peering at it. This one was much more faded, practically un-readable, but it was unmistakably a copy of the one they had, ‘’huh,’’ Cal murmured, ‘’looks like this Hilarion person was rather important.’’

‘’Looks like it...’’ Dorn murmured. He wondered who, exactly, it was they were looking for.

‘’Oh, excuse me!’’ Dorn was jerked from his thoughts at Cal’s sudden call. The older boy was hurrying towards a figure that had just appeared from between the houses. It was an old woman, dressed in black rags with a basket against her hip, filled with dirt-smeared, limp looking potatoes. She flinched when Cal approached, putting out his pipe quickly, ‘’hello, my name is Calryn-‘’

The woman took a step away from him, ‘’you should go,’’ she said in an urgent whisper, ‘’the King doesn’t like other witches.’’

‘’The King is all the way in the capital,’’ Cal laughed, ‘’surely-‘’

‘’You should go,’’ the woman hissed and hurried away, leaving Cal stunned.

‘’Why are they all so afraid?’’ Dorn came to stand at his side, ‘’the King can’t see us all the way here, can he?’’ he looked at Cal, who was watching the woman retreat. His usual dopey, happy demeanour was gone for a moment as his golden brows furrowed and he watched her go with serious eyes. Dorn realised that with all his smoking and shenanigans, to still be in the academy Cal must have been ridiculously smart, ‘’can he?’’ Dorn asked again. It came out more like a squeak.

‘’Not sure, squirt,’’ Cal murmured.

‘’I thought I told you not to move.’’

They turned to find Aliza storming over to them, Taryn in tow. Cal’s dopey smile was back, ‘’Liz~ that was fast!’’

‘’No one will talk to us,’’ Liz huffed, ‘’it’s as if we’ve got the plague or something.’’

‘’They’re just scared,’’ Dorn said.

Cal pointed to the notice board, ‘’looks like whoever issued the notice was looking here, too.’’

‘’I doubt they found anything,’’ Liz sighed.

They walked back out of town just as Ravor stepped back through the invisible door he’d gone through. The hedge witch shook his head mutely. Liz sighed and they all waited for the return of Orland and Diya. When they did show back up, it was empty handed, ‘’all taverns are full, apparently,’’ Orland said.

‘’They wouldn’t even let us in,’’ Diya didn’t seem bothered by that fact, shrugging.

‘’I guess we’ll have to camp out again,’’ Cal said. He didn’t sound bothered either.

‘’Here?’’ Orland wrinkled his nose.

‘’No,’’ Liz said darkly, turning to go. She hefted her satchel against her shoulder, ‘’I’d rather die than sleep in this place.’’

*~*~*

For two days after their wedding, Azariah didn’t show his face in the bandit caves. He remained with the Kåvieh-Dah, knowing that when Nym got fed up with his absence he’d send for him. For now, he didn’t feel like spending more time in his new husband’s bed. He was just a piece in the plan anyway. He wasn’t relevant. He was _ordinary_.

Nym sat in his grandmother’s room, listening to the same lecture he’d been given since he was a child as she painted his face with blue paint, ‘’remember, Azariah,’’ Barbenna Aejor said, the movements of her fingers on his face sharp and practiced, ‘’you are the blessing of our people and you are our curse. Your power may never be used for evil.’’

‘’I know, grandmother,’’ Nym said, biting back a sigh. If he sighed in her face, Barbenna would likely smack him across the face. She hated disrespect and Aza was prone to giving it to everyone, even if he didn’t mean to.

Her thumb, painting symbols on his chin, paused for a moment, ‘’he may never know what you truly are,’’ she warned in a low voice, ‘’your children must be normal.’’

Nym didn’t want to think about children. He was a free spirit – if he had it his way, he’d be without husband or child for the rest of his life, able to do whatever he wanted, sing wherever he wanted, go whatever places he wanted to go to. But he was the last curse of the Kåvieh-Dah, and he knew his grandmother – and his family – wouldn’t breathe a sigh of relief until he birthed ordinary children. His power had to end with him. It could not be passed on and so Aza needed someone normal – someone like Nym, whose humanity could counter-act the ancient genes passed down to Azariah, ‘’I know, grandmother,’’ the boy said again.

Barbenna grasped her grandson’s face with her clean hand, giving him a stern look, ‘’do not let yourself be bound.’’

Aza rose from the chair, feeling irritation stir in him. He knew all of this already, ‘’he can’t bind me to him if he does not know what I am. And I don’t intend on letting him find out. I leave every night, don’t I?’’

Barbenna studied him for a moment, then sighed and squeezed his shoulder, ‘’I wish...I wish there could have been a different path for you, my boy-‘’

She was interrupted by one of the warrior Rok twins – Deranna, judging by the short hair escaping her horned helmet – as she walked into the room after a quick knock, ‘’the bandit boy is here for Azariah,’’ she said, sounding a little confused.

Aza sent his grandmother a quick smile and followed Deranna out of the caves, where she deposited him. Nym waited for him there, dressed rather warmly, even for autumn. He tossed a fur-lined cloak at Azariah, ‘’if you won’t spend nights with me,’’ he said coldly, ‘’then you will be with me during the day. Get a move on.’’

He turned and started back towards the middle mountain. Confused – but curious – Azariah threw the cloak over his shoulders and followed his husband.

*~*~*

After dragging him away from work, Moth led Dain to the waterfall where they had first met. At the foot of it, where the waterfall spilled into a lake, Moth shucked off the animal-skin pants he wore and ran into it, butt-naked. Dain stared at his naked form wide-eyed, until he dived underwater. When he resurfaced, he was facing Dain and waving, ‘’get in!’’

Dain hesitated. He wasn’t one for spontaneous insanities like this but then again, Moth was his mate – he’d lap up any morsels of contact that he could get. He took off his simple green tunic, pants and boots, leaving himself in his undergarments and eye-patch. He yelped when he entered the water – it was colder than expected, but, after the initial shock, the coolness of it was glorious after working in the hot Khandarian sun. Moth dived again as Dain submerged himself to his shoulders in the lake. When he resurfaced once more, he was so close to Dain that the alpha inhaled sharply. Moth gave him a cheeky grin, ‘’hello.’’

‘’Hello,’’ Dain breathed. Up close, Moth was even more mesmerising. Dain didn’t know whether it was because they were mates but everything about Demothi – the beauty mark beneath his eye and one beneath his lips, the darkness of his eyes under the silver arch of his eyebrows, the slightly smudges, light green paint against his brown skin... – it was all stunning. Dain couldn’t look away, painfully aware that he didn’t look his best today – his curly, auburn hair was a hopeless frizz from the humidity in the air, his jaw was covered with rough stubble and he wasn’t exactly the most handsome man in New Vallarta, especially with his eye-patch. Feeling a little self conscious, the alpha took a step back in the water.

Moth pushed himself back into the water, swimming a bit further out, ‘’so,’’ he said conversationally, ‘’what are all those trees for?’’

‘’Um...we’re going to build more houses,’’ Dain said. When Moth just studied him, he added, ‘’we’ve got more brides coming to New Vallarta soon. There will be families, eventually. We need space for all that.’’

‘’How far will you build?’’

‘’I don’t know,’’ Dain shrugged, the water sloshing around his shoulders, ‘’I don’t ask questions. I just build.’’

‘’So you just follow,’’ Moth said and Dain felt...ashamed? Somehow, now that he was bound to someone, he wanted to be someone worthy. He’d never felt like he wasn’t doing enough before, ‘’what if you go too far? What if you go into our territory?’’

‘’I don’t think we will. We don’t want to be hostile with your people,’’ Dain said carefully.

Moth studied him for a moment then swam closer. He rested his hands on Dain’s shoulders, because his feet didn’t touch the bottom of the lake, ‘’hmm,’’ he murmured, his eyes flicking – once – to Dain’s lips. Dain noticed the steel star pendant that Moth had nicked from him around his neck. It looked pretty against his brown chest. His hands felt incredibly warm against Dain’s shoulder, ‘’what does your governor want?’’

‘’I...don’t know...’’ Dain said, distracted by Moth’s close proximity.

Moth’s fingers curled into the back of Dain’s head, tugging on his curls, ‘’is he bringing soldiers?’’

‘’Maybe a few, to protect the town,’’ Dain said, his eyes skimming over Moth’s lips, his collarbones.

‘’Protect from what?’’

‘’I...nothing, I suppose,’’ under the water, Dain’s hand brushed against Moth’s hip, unable to stop himself.

‘’How big will your town be?’’ Moth kept his tone light, non-intrusive, and it made Dain want to keep talking to him, no matter what their conversation was about.

‘’Governor Crass wants to make a great city,’’ Dain said, ‘’like Vallarta in Mutzre.’’

‘’What’s that?’’ Moth tilted his head to the side adorably, ‘’Mu...tzre?’’

‘’It’s a kingdom,’’ Dain supplied.

‘’Have you ever been to it?’’

‘’No...’’

Moth finally stopped his tirade of questions, peering at Dain’s green eye, ‘’where are _you_ from?’’

‘’Kainan,’’ Dain said.

Moth nodded. He knew of Kainan – Cass had often spoken about it when he taught him and Catori the language, ‘’what were you? There.’’

‘’A blacksmith,’’ Dain said and when Moth looked confused, he added, ‘’I made things from metal. Like this,’’ he touched the pendant Moth now wore.

Moth put one arm completely around Dain’s neck, keeping himself up in the water while touching the pendant with his other hand, ‘’you made stars?’’

Dain laughed, ‘’not exactly.’’

Moth looked surprised. He reached up and touched his fingertips to Dain’s lips, ‘’I liked that.’’

Dain blushed a little, ‘’my...laugh?’’

Moth nodded, ‘’tell me more about you,’’ his fingers fell to Dain’s neck, drawing down his tan skin lightly.

Dain sighed softly. He didn’t come from a noble – or even good – background but if Moth wanted to know, he’d tell him, ‘’my grandparents were born in the Moracay canyon-‘’

‘’What’s that?’’ Moth said instantly and tried to pronounce it to no avail.

‘’It’s a place for criminals. Bad people.’’

‘’Oh,’’ Moth looked surprised, ‘’what did they do wrong?’’

‘’I don’t know,’’ Dain said, ‘’they died there, but my mother was released when the canyon was liberated.’’

‘’What does ‘liberated’ mean?’’ Moth interrupted again.

Dain smiled fondly at his child-like questions, ‘’freed.’’

‘’Oh,’’ Moth smiled, ‘’I like that word. So what happened to your mother?’’

‘’She went to Rhein – that’s a kingdom in Kainan. Or...was, anyway,’’ Dain’s voice turned a little softer, ‘’she met my father and had me. They both died of the plague when I was away in Koln.’’

Moth bit his lip, ‘’I know of that illness. My father told me of a wolf woman that came here, once. The illness doesn’t exist anymore.’’

Dain smiled, ‘’that’s good.’’

Moth studied Dain’s features. He was free with his touches, roaming over Dain’s shoulders and face. Eventually, with a quiet, trouble sigh, he said, ‘’your governor wants me.’’

Dain blinked, ‘’Crass?’’

Moth nodded, ‘’my chief said. He wants me as his bride,’’ he looked away, ‘’or...something else.’’

Dain’s auburn brows furrowed. Crass wanted Moth...? Dain wasn’t surprised – Moth had captivated dozens of hearts with his fire dance at the celebrations...Dain’s included, ‘’you could...’’ Dain licked his lips nervously, ‘’marry someone else?’’

‘’No,’’ Moth said instantly and smiled a little, ‘’I like being...free,’’ he tasted the word. He clearly hadn’t spoken it much in Kai.

Dain took a deep breath, ‘’Demothi, we’re mates. If Crass knew, he’d leave you alone. If...if you’d _consider_ -‘’

‘’No,’’ Moth said again, easily. He stayed closed to Dain, ‘’you are of the shore,’’ he murmured, ‘’we are different.’’

‘’So what?’’ Dain breathed.

‘’So we can’t’’ Moth said simply, shrugging, and it hurt. It hurt that he didn’t care. It hurt that he just smiled and leaned in closer, ‘’though you are fascinating,’’ Moth murmured in Khandarian, so that Dain did not understand, as he pecked his lips lightly – just to see what it would feel like.

It was a mistake.

Instantly, Moth felt as if he’d set his whole body on fire with his powder – but he just kept burning and burning. He bit back a gasp and took a step away. Dain looked at startled as Moth felt. Trying not to show his shock – and the strangeness stirring in him, similar to the one he’d felt when he first saw Dain – he turned and dived into the lake. He swam neatly and speedily and emerged on down the shore. He climbed out, snatched his trousers and ran into the trees before Dain could even get out from the lake. He put the auburn-haired man out of his head.

For now, he ran back to his village, to tell his chief of the magnificent city the shore people wanted to build on their land.

*~*~*

‘’Five minutes?’’ Thorn double-checked.

‘’Yes. Precisely,’’ Faelan nodded.

‘’How far do you want me to go?’’

‘’As far as you want without feeling embarrassed when we walk in on you,’’ Faelan said, matter-of-factly.

Thorn nodded, glancing once more at the whore sitting on the chaise in his apartments. Her name was Jurgha and she was sworn to secrecy. Like everything else in Arnheim she was cold and perfectly trained – everything from her posture to her expression to her attire was perfect. She’d shrugged off her cloak and outer layers, leaving herself in a sheer black night dress. She waited patiently on the chaise. Faelan followed Thorn’s gaze towards the courtesan and felt a pang of hesitation go through him. He glanced back at Thorn, who was still looking at the girl on his bed. Why did Faelan feel so... _reluctant_? He shook the feeling off. There was no time to waste, ‘’five minutes,’’ he repeated and left the room briskly.

Since Radagmal was off-limits, thanks to Aira’s threats, Faelan and Thorn decided to go for something more simple. The hired girl would work like a dream though Fae couldn’t help but feel uneasy about the whole thing. He tried to ignore the feeling as he went to his father’s office. King Daran was with Darmor, teaching him the technicalities of being King. The technicalities that Fae should have been taught, had he not been claimed as the bride of Thorn when they had been children. As always, he felt bitterness rise up in him and his determination to severe the engagement with the Hailbronese prince grew, ‘’father, I am ready.’’

‘’Ah, perfect,’’ Daran said just as Airen appeared at Faelan’s shoulder.

‘’It’s good of you to do this,’’ Airen said with a note of pride in his voice. Faelan felt a little guilty again, ‘’a royal confirmation of Prince Thorn’s proposal will do our alliance with Kainan good.’’

Airen took Daran’s arm and they fell into step behind Faelan and Darmor. Fae felt his little brother lean in closer as he whispered, ‘’you’re suddenly very on-board with the whole wedding thing,’’ he said with a wicked grin, ‘’you’re not plotting something, are you?’’

Fae cut him a cold look, ‘’enough of this childishness. You are the future King. Act like it,’’ anyone else would have been nervous and anxious about the whole thing but now that Fae set his mind to it, he threw himself into the plan full force. The royal family swept through the palace, going towards the apartments Thorn resided in. When they stopped just outside, Daran knocked three times and entered.

‘’Good news, prince Thorn, my son-‘’

He stopped dead as his husband and two eldest sons spilled into the room. Fae would have given Thorn propos for the perfectly shocked look on his face if he wasn’t so...aghast at how well the scene played out. Jurgha was splayed below Thorn, her golden hair spilling over the pillows of the chaise, her dress ripped open to reveal her breasts, her long, pale legs wrapped around Thorn’s hips. Thorn’s belt was loosened, the first couple of buttons undone and they looked like they’d just broken apart from kissing – hair dishevelled, eyes hazy...it looked too true. It looked like they had actually started something. Had they? Fae couldn’t tell. He didn’t know why he cared. He wondered how much of the hurt and surprise on his face was faked.

‘’P-Prince Thorn-!’’ Daran stuttered, flushing scarlet. It was rare for Faelan to see his father embarrassed.

‘’Your majesty!’’ Thorn jumped off Jurgha, doing up his buttons quickly and fixing his belt, ‘’I didn’t...um, I wasn’t expecting-‘’

‘’What in the nine hells is going on here!?’’ Daran demanded.

Fae snapped out of it, remembering his part, ‘’you...you _filthy_ bastard!’’ he yelled, loud enough that Jurgha flinched. He stormed up to Thorn and shoved him in the chest, hard. It was real anger that he felt when Thorn only stumbled back a step, even though Faelan had put all his power behind the shove, ‘’we’re not even married and already you dishonour me with a _whore_!?’’

‘’We were just fooling around-‘’ Thorn said.

‘’Fooling around!? Not even a _week_ before we set sail for Kainan!?’’ Faelan yelled, ‘’I come here to formally accept your proposal with my family and you...you...!’’ Fae didn’t know what else to yell so he just left it at that. He fisted his hands, trying to make his performance convincing, ‘’the wedding is off!’’

‘’Enough,’’ Airen put a calming hand on Daran’s shoulder. Darmor look amused where he stood in the doorway. Airen went to Faelan and took his arm, ‘’prince Throne, please get rid of your...guest,’’ he said, his voice twisted with disgust as he pulled Fae out of the room. Faelan turned back to glance at Thorn who mouthed ‘ _good job_ ’ before the doors slammed shut behind them.

‘’Darmor, go spar with your father. Calm him down,’’ Airen said. He still had a tight grip on Faelan’s arm as he pulled him quickly into the nearest room and shut the doors. Fae opened his mouth to give a believable, prolonged rant about what a scoundrel Thorn was. Airen beat him to it, shutting him up with five simple words, ‘’you have to marry him.’’

Fae’s voice died in his throat and he stared at his father in disbelief, ‘’did you not see what I saw!?’’ he exclaimed finally, ‘’were we looking at different things!?’’

‘’It doesn’t matter,’’ Airen snapped, ‘’you can’t call off the wedding. At the end of the week you have to get on that ship with Thorn, sail to his kingdom, marry him and be his consort.’’

Faelan stared at his father in disbelief. He stared and stared, ‘’ _why_?’’ he asked finally. His voice cracked.

Airen’s face softened. Fae didn’t show his emotions often, just like Airen. The King Consort reached for his son, putting his soft hands on his shoulders gently, ‘’we need the supplies. We are a barren land and without help from Kainan, we will starve...we need _allies_ , Faelan.’’

‘’Allies?’’ Fae choked out. Arnheim had always been fine by themselves, ‘’against who?’’

‘’Don’t you know what’s happening in Solin?’’ Airen said quietly, urgently, ‘’they were invaded by a single witch with no army. Now their royal family has disappeared and anyone who dares oppose the usurper King disappears, too. Even the witch Queen of the north can’t do anything about him, and they share borders.’’

‘’And you’re sending me there,’’ Fae said, voice raw.

Airen’s hands tightened on his shoulders, ‘’I’m making sure Arnheim is protected. If...if something like that were to happen to us, we’ll need all the help we can get. Face it, Fae. Arnheim isn’t an isolated kingdom at war with Yame anymore. The others kingdoms know about us. It’s time to forge alliances.’’

‘’At the cost of your oldest son,’’ Fae said softly, emptily.

‘’It is your duty,’’ Airen said seriously, ‘’just as it was my duty to marry the victor of the Last War. And look what came of it,’’ he gave Fae a small, encouraging smile, ‘’a united kingdom. Strong, good children...love,’’ he added with uncharacteristic gentleness, ‘’some Kings take lovers, it’s true. It doesn’t mean Thorn will be bad to you. He will give you and your kingdom the strength to carry on through anything that may come our way,’’ he squeezed Fae’s shoulders, ‘’and you’re not going alone. Aira and Saromír will go with you to Hailbronn, remember.’’

Faelan hated that he’d stooped to having his father speak to him like a child. They were Arhanese. Weakness was not permitted, ‘’I understand,’’ he said emptily. When Airen reached for him, he stepped back.

‘’Let me hold you,’’ Airen said and his voice wobbled a little, ‘’we don’t have much time left, my little one.’’

To his utmost terror, Fae felt tears sting at the back of his throat. Until now, he hadn’t truly believed he’d be whisked to Kainan and forced to marry Thorn. Now it was all real – and happening in less than a week. He surged into his father’s arms, even though he was taller and more muscular than him, and let himself be held like a child, for the last time.

*~*~*

Ariawyn wished she hadn’t been married to Jana Roxton. She’d take anyone – _literally_ anyone – over her. Even the gods-damned drunk Arthion got married to. For one, Jana treated Aria like she did not exist. That would have been fine, except Aria was still supposed to act and dress like the wife of the governor’s daughter. She was given pretty, heavy dresses, wholly unsuited for the weather in Khandar. She was given jewellery and needlepoint to do by the window while everyone else in New Vallarta worked and built and made Khandar their home.

But she wasn’t _completely_ useless.

Jana paid so little attention to her new wife that she hardly noticed her – which meant that Aria could spy. She wasn’t sure who she was spying for – it was hard to pick sides between natives she didn’t know at all and the scheming assholes she had to live with. For now, she just wanted to know as much as she could. She didn’t want to be in the dark about the things her wife did. So, like always in the evenings, Aria slinked to the corridor of the well-built, sturdy house the Roxtons lived in. She pressed herself against the wall of the kitchen, in her silk night gown, and listened. There were no doors here, just a doorway, and so it was easy to hear what Jana and Crass discussed.

Tonight, it was the tribes.

‘’...Myaamia don’t trust us, but that’s fine. We only need to hold off any wars until our ships get here,’’ Crass was saying, matter-of-factly.

‘’War?’’ his daughter sounded shocked, ‘’who said anything about war? I thought we wanted to make peace with the natives.’’

‘’We did. At the start,’’ Aria heard Crass say, ‘’but our expansion is obvious now and they’re not happy about it. It’s obvious that they will fight us eventually.’’

There was a long silence. When Jana spoke again, her voice was quiet – almost angry, ‘’when we left Mutzre to come here, you said we were starting a new life without all that violence. We did not escape one civil war just to start another one here.’’

‘’Oh, darling...I say war, but it’s not truly war,’’ Crass said and he sounded amused. Aria clenched her fists. How could someone speak so lightly about killing people? ‘’once our numbers go up a little, the natives won’t stand a chance. They are primitive. Their sticks won’t do much against our swords.’’

‘’You’re talking about genocide!’’ Jana said. She must have stood because there was a clattering sound.

‘’Calm yourself,’’ Crass snapped. He didn’t sound amused anymore, ‘’you said you wanted to be governess. Unless you want to be the daughter of the governor of a tiny, run-down village for the rest of your life, soldier up. We have work to do.’’

Aria waited for Jana’s reply, teeth gritted.

Instead, suddenly Jana appeared in the doorway.

She must have been marching out, angry, but when she saw Aria there she did a double take. Aria’s eyes widened and her heart came up to her throat. She hadn’t given getting caught much thought. Jana got over her surprise first and she grabbed Aria’s arm in a vice-like grip, ‘’what are you doing here?’’ she hissed, ‘’eavesdropping?’’

_Think, think, think...!_

‘’I-I just...’’ Aria racked her brain for something to say, ‘’I got lonely.’’

Jana’s anger melted into confusion, ‘’lonely?’’ the blonde woman asked.

Aria grasped onto that idea. She leaned towards Jana, even though her grip on Aria’s arm was beginning to hurt, ‘’you never lie with me. We don’t spend time together. I barely see you,’’ she tried to look as innocent as possible, ‘’didn’t you want a bride?’’ when Jana just stared at her in surprise, Aria added, ‘’I wanted to ask you to come to bed but...’’ she reached out, playing idly with the ribbon at the front of Jana’s dress, ‘’I heard you were having a talk with your father and I didn’t want to be rude by interrupting...’’

Aria prayed to the gods that Jana would buy it. The blonde alpha stared down at her for a long, tense while – but she must have been pent up because her fingers, bejewelled with rings, came to brush against Aria’s freckled cheek.

In the next instance, Jana was pulling her towards their bedroom, her misdemeanour forgotten.

But Aria didn’t forget what she heard. She didn’t forget that she’d just walked herself into the middle of a soon-to-be war.

*~*~*

Vaeril was in a bad mood when he entered the tower but Elisen didn’t notice, too caught up in his book. The book Vae had brought him was that of fairytales. There were some about adventurers and some about animals, but most were ones that ended the same – with love. No matter what was in the fairytale – witches, demons, wicked beasts, curses, spells, dragons – they all had a true love’s kiss at the end. Elisen had read the whole thing three times already. His favourite story was about a girl who changed into a ferocious, horned beast and terrorised the towns. She didn’t truly want to hurt anyone but her tail was clumsy and she sprouted fire every time she tried to speak. Eventually, after laying carnage to many towns she retreated into the caves in the middle of a forest and stayed there. Many soldiers and knights came to slay her and with each day, her heart broke more and more because she was lonely. She just wanted to be loved. One day, a beautiful princess running away from a cruel prince she was to marry found her. She was not afraid of the beast. The beast vowed to protect the princess. And so they lived together, their friendship blooming into love. When the princess finally placed a kiss atop the beasts’ muzzle, the beast shed her scaled skin and turned back into a beautiful girl. But she missed her power and her wings and so she and her princess prayed to the moon. It gave the girl back her beastly form at night and so she could fly freely with her princess on her back and show her the world. When the sun rose, she turned back into a girl and they went back to the cottage they had built and they shared a true love’s kiss each day.

A true love’s kiss...

That was what stuck with Elisen through the whole book. He realised he’d never been kissed before. He didn’t even truly know what it was. The book didn’t describe it, though there were a few drawings in the book of two people pressed together. It looked painful. Eli didn’t understand why the author liked kisses so much. Still, they remained in his head for two days that Vae wasn’t there, even as he practiced his magic and trained his wolf form.

When Vae finally came back to the tower, Elisen was buzzing to ask him about the kisses.

‘’Vae,’’ Elisen leaned over his shoulder as Vaeril sat heavily on the edge of the bed in the bedroom and began undoing the buckles on his boots, ‘’can I ask you something?’’

‘’Can’t it wait?’’ Vae asked gruffly, ‘’I’m exhausted.’’

‘’Please?’’ Eli whined, ‘’It’s really, _really_ important.’’

Vae sighed, ‘’fine.’’

‘’What’s a kiss?’’

Vae’s hands froze on his buckles and he straightened quickly, giving Eli a shocked looked, ‘’a kiss!?’’

Eli nodded, lifting his book, ‘’it’s in here all the time but I have no idea what it is...Vae?’’ Eli frowned when he noticed that Vaeril’s face had gone scarlet. He turned back to his buckles almost angrily.

‘’It’s nothing.’’

‘’Is a kiss a bad thing?’’ Eli leaned further over Vae’s shoulder as the witch avoided his gaze.

‘’...No.’’

‘’Is it a good thing, then?’’ Elisen was so close that his nose brushed Vae’s cheek.

Maybe that’s why Vaeril did it.

Elisen inhaled sharply when, suddenly Vae twisted around and grasped his chin, slotting their lips together. It was brief, just a brush of their mouths, but Eli’s double-coloured eyes widened anyway at the sensation. It wasn’t painful at all. It was... it was...

Feeling like his heart would shatter, Elisen exhaled shakily as Vae pulled back, ‘’ _that’s_ a kiss,’’ he said. He still sounded angry.

Elisen felt like he’d been slapped. His body felt all hot. His head spun. More than anything, he wanted to lean in and have Vaeril kiss him again. He scrambled off the bed, clutching his fairytale book to his chest, ‘’I-I forgot to do my run today,’’ he stammered and fled.

He ran all the way down the tower, to his training room. He stripped off his clothes as fast as he could, discarding his book atop them and shifted into his wolf form. He ran into the labyrinth. He ran around, over and over, until he couldn’t run anymore. He collapsed in the centre and shifted back into a shivering, naked boy. The heat hadn’t dispersed. It congregated between Eli’s thighs and he whimpered, not sure what to do about it. Uncertainly, he grasped his throbbing member and gave an uncertain pump. His whole body shuddered. Eli closed his eyes tightly and didn’t even try to get rid of the image of Vaeril in his head as he sped up, touching himself until he came.

Panting, he lay there, catching his breath. He felt ashamed and stupid and silly about reacting the way he did. Why had he ran away? Why hadn’t he just...leaned back in? Now Vae wouldn’t kiss him again. Eli closed his eyes once more. He didn’t understand _why_ he wanted Vae to kiss him again.

After a while, Eli got cold. He left the labyrinth and put his clothes back on.

When he went back upstairs, he found that Vaeril had left again.

*~*~*

Sharian awoke to an empty bed but no banging.

Jhaan had been coming home drunk, like most nights, and passing out on the bed, as per usual. Sharian had taken to going to work in his stead but when he woke up with his husband not in bed, he felt worry stir in his stomach. There was no banging on the doors of the house from Khalil Vult or any other soldier but Sharian still dressed quickly and hurried to the edge of the forest, where the workers chopped down trees to make new houses and buildings. A few homes and a single tavern was hardly a town. It was a sunny day, as all days were in Khandar. Sharian sometimes wondered if he’d ever get tired of the sun, especially on hot days. Well, it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if he had anywhere else to go. He’d have to learn to deal with the sun, whether he liked it or not.

He started bumping into workers just outside of New Vallarta and a few minutes later, he was by the forest. Shouts and chattering permeated the air every once in a while. The alphas worked hard, their axes swinging, their muscles glistening with sweats, their tunics discarded at their feet. Sharian went up to the overseer, ‘’I’m here to work instead of Jhaan Leake,’’ he said, like he said every morning.

The overseer peered at him and then, instead of ticking him off his list, pointed. Sharian’s gaze followed his finger to the edge of the forest. Sharian blinked his golden eyes, surprised. There was Jhaan, shirtless, the honey-gold muscles of his back exposed. Sharian watched him swing powerfully – once, twice, three times – as he got a small tree to come down. That would have taken Sharian at least a dozen swings. He couldn’t help but feel impressed, ‘’thanks,’’ he told the overseer and hurried over to his husband, who wasn’t passed out in the tavern or the bed for once. As Sharian approached, Jhaan set his axe down and ran his hand through his dull blond hair before reaching for his water skein. He’d just finished drinking when Sharian appeared in front of him.

‘’Well, this is a surprise,’’ Sharian put his hands on his hips, ‘’seeing you somewhere that’s not the tavern.’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Jhaan said glumly, ‘’sorry,’’ he reached out and ruffled Sharian’s hair, surprising him, ‘’thanks for taking my shifts, and all that. You don’t have to anymore.’’

‘’What changed?’’ Sharian asked, genuinely curious.

Jhaan shrugged. He rubbed the back of his hair, looking troubled, ‘’I just...noticed you do everything around me, ‘is all. I’m not a child. It’s about time I start pulling my weight.’’

‘’You pulled your weight for three years,’’ Sharian said, surprised when he found that he wasn’t completely faking what he said, ‘’you built the house, the town...I don’t mind doing things for you,’’ he extended out his hand for the axe, ‘’here, I’ll help with the work.’’

Jhaan smiled, surprising Sharian once again. He didn’t think he’d seen Jhaan smile before. He was rather handsome when he did. The alpha took Sharian’s hand, running his thumb over his palm, ‘’it’s alright. I wouldn’t want to ruin your pretty hands...’’ he trailed off, frowning. He brushed his thumb over the top of Sharian’s hand, then turned it over, inspecting his fingertips, ‘’huh...’’

‘’W-what is it?’’ Sharian asked. His anxiety spiked, though he was unsure what Jhaan had noticed.

‘’It’s just...you’ve got calluses,’’ Jhaan observed.

‘’Well I have worked your shifts for the last few days,’’ Sharian laughed nervously.

‘’These aren’t just from holding an axe,’’ Jhaan’s dark brown eyes flicked to Sharian’s, ‘’why does a noble like you have calluses, Arthion?’’

Sharian forced himself not to react or give anything away. He quickly plastered what he hoped was a mischievous smile on his face and pulled his hand out of Jhaan’s grip, ‘’maybe I was a naughty noble growing up,’’ he said. Jhaan didn’t seem convinced. His eyes flicked dubiously over Sharian’s body under his tunic and trousers, over his tousled black hair, the golden piercings running all the way up one of his ears, his startling golden eyes... Sharian realised his mistake when Jhaan murmured, ‘’Arthion, why do you look afraid-?’’

‘’Mr Arthion!’’ came a merry call and Sharian exhaled softly in relief.

Both Jhaan and Sharian turned to find Khalil Vult – dressed in light armour, despite the heat – coming towards them. Sharian had bumped into the red-head Sahrian soldier a few times since he came knocking on his doors a couple days ago, ‘’hello, Khalil. You know, you should really just call me Arthion.’’

Khalil grinned, ‘’yes, mr- I mean, Arthion,’’ he laughed, a little giddily.

Suddenly, Jhaan took a step in front of Sharian, his eyes narrowing, ‘’didn’t know you knew my husband, Vult.’’

Khalil looked to Jhaan and his eyes turned a little colder, ‘’just in passing.’’

Sharian could feel the tension between them like a lute string. Thankfully, just then, Aria appeared out of nowhere, holding up her skirts. She looked...different. She was decked out like the Roxton family, into which she had married. Instead of her customary black Asakurian tunic and breezy pants, she now wore a light green day-dress, embroided with golden flowers. Her silver hair was pulled up in a complicated hairstyle, like Jana Roxton’s. Pearl earrings twinkled at her ears. She looked almost like a princess, but she looked immensely uncomfortable as she hitched up her skirts and walked to Sharian through the tall grass, ‘’Arthion, there you are!’’

‘’Aria! What are you doing here?’’ Sharian asked.

‘’We’re a bit low for your kind, aren’t we?’’ Jhaan added. His voice was filled with bitterness and he was still glaring daggers at Khalil.

After Jhaan’s sudden comments about his hands, Sharian’s nerves were one edge. He wanted to get away from both the alphas, and fast, ‘’Aria, come over for tea, would you?’’ he asked, extending his arm.

‘’Ugh, great,’’ Aria turned in a circle with some difficulty, trying to keep her dress up with one hand as she linked her arm through Sharian’s.

‘’I’ll see you at home, Jhaan,’’ Sharian said quickly to his husband, then sent Khalil a smile, ‘’bye, Khalil.’’

Khalil beamed at him, ‘’have a good day.’’

Jhaan and Khalil watched the two walk off. Jhaan cast Khalil a venomous look, ‘’you should probably apply for a bride of your own, Vult,’’ he said.

Khalil gave him a dirty look, ‘’I can’t believe sweet Arthion got stuck with a drunken mess like you. He deserves better,’’ he snapped and walked off in the opposite direction. Jhaan snatched up his axe and slammed it into the nearest tree with an angry grunt. It lodged there and he let it go, taking a deep, calming breath. His headache was coming back – he drank less last night, but still enough to feel the consequences. He hated that Khalil Vult, the bright sunshine ray of New Vallarta, was right. He was a pathetic mess and that was fine before, but now he had someone to look after. He had to get a grip. He looked towards where Arthion walked and his eyes slid to Aria. His husband was so mysterious – Jhaan realised this more and more. Maybe that girl would know something...

Meanwhile, Aria and Sharian walked quickly away from the two alphas butting heads, ‘’I need to tell you something,’’ Aria said urgently, ‘’it’s about the Roxtons and their plans for the tribes-‘’

‘’Not here,’’ Sharian hissed, glancing towards the line of trees that stretched from the first buildings of New Vallarta. Leaning against one, eating some kind of exotic fruit, was Jasim Shaed, the man who had been charged with getting Arthion Fade safely to Khandar. He suspected something, Sharian knew, and the suspicious look Jasim shot him across the field only made Sharian feel more uneasy. He and Jhaan could never meet – he had to make sure they didn’t. He stepped over a tree stump and pulled Aria along faster.

*~*~*

The team ended up camping a little outside of Kingsbridge, where everything wasn’t so... _murky_. They could still see the town in the distance, with the moat-bridge like a looming beast watching over it. As the night deepened, they decided not to venture into the forest that cupped the country paths and instead built a fire just before it.

‘’I’ll go on watch first,’’ Ravor said and no one argued. They all settled down for sleep around the fire. The older students had brought their bedrolls with them – Taryn and Dorn hadn’t thought that far ahead so they just curled up on their cloaks, like they had for the last few days.

‘’Scoot up, Orlie,’’ Calryn mumbled sleepily, laying his bedroll directly next to Orland’s.

‘’Buzz off, Cal. Sleep somewhere else,’’ Orland said, already settled down to sleep.

‘’I’m cold,’’ Cal said. A moment later...

‘’GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!’’

‘’I’m cold,’’ Cal whined again, ‘’let me cuddle...’’

‘’If you guys don’t shut up I _will_ kill you,’’ Liz snapped. The two tenth years quietened.

Dorn was exhausted. Between a day of marching, meeting Diya and trying to avoid his sister’s wrath, he felt ready to sleep for the next two weeks. He glanced towards the assassin that had exposed them. He was already asleep – or so it seemed. His silver hair spilled over his bedroll, the golden beads he wore woven throughout it placed neatly next to him, connected by a leather string. His weapons lay within arm’s reach. Even as he slept, his body was tense and ready for defence. Dorn didn’t know how he felt about him yet – after all, he’d given him and Taryn away. He decided not to think about it any longer, closing his eyes. Sleep tugged at him like a lapping wave.

Something tickling his nose made him look up. He must have dozed, ever so slightly, and in his sleepy daze he frowned at the black mass before him. It looked incredibly soft, lush...he just wanted to touch it. He reached out and pressed a pale hand into it, running his fingers down...

Ravor’s hand closed around his wrist, jerking him into a sitting position harshly. Dorn inhaled sharply as he was met with Ravor’s angry eyes – one orange and one dark auburn, owl-like – up close, ‘’don’t touch me without permission,’’ he hissed.

Dorn’s eyes widened as he realised what he’d done. Without his spectacles on, everything was blurry – and he’d accidentally touched Ravor’s wing. He’d read that night fae wings were incredibly sensitive and they only allowed family and lovers to touch them. Dorn flushed head to toe, ‘’s-s-sorry...’’

Ravor gave him one more glare and dropped his hand, sitting with his back to him and watching the forest.

Dorn settled back down but he couldn’t sleep with his pounding heart keeping him awake.

*~*~*

The last person Jhaan expected to see at the tavern was Ariawyn Mormyar – now Ariawyn Roxton. All Jhaan knew about her was that she came on the same ship as Arthion, she was his friend and she was married to the slightly pretentious daughter of governor Roxton. When Jhaan had seen her around, she’d been dressed in expensive clothing that didn’t quite fit with the simplicity of the life in Khandar – but now she wore a plain, brown tunic tucked into pants and sandals. Her silver hair was loose and she stared glumly into her ale as if contemplating life. Before he knew what he was doing, Jhaan slid onto the stool next to her, ‘’Aria, right?’’ he asked, ‘’hiding from the Roxtons?’’

‘’You’re Arthion’s drunken husband,’’ Aria didn’t look away from her ale.

‘’Is that what I’m known as now?’’

‘’I’m not judging you,’’ Aria shrugged, looking even more miserable, ‘’after all I’m married to a woman who...ah, never mind.’’

Jhaan wasn’t interested in gossip about the Roxtons. In New Vallarta, gossip got you nothing but a noose around your neck, ‘’how long have you been friends with Arthion?’’

‘’Since the voyage began,’’ Aria said, finally glancing at Jhaan, ‘’he was the only one out of the lot not to be a simpering fool about the whole bride thing. He had a purpose that wasn’t as fleeting or stupid as love.’’

Jhaan’s dusty blond eyebrows went up as he took a gulp of his ale, ‘’what was his purpose?’’

‘’A safe, secure life. A new start,’’ Aria shrugged again, ‘’same as me.’’

‘’Was his life in Kainan not enough?’’ Jhaan asked thoughtfully. He wasn’t tipsy yet and the need to soften the edge of everyday life – of the memories of his family – was becoming more pressing by the second, ‘’he was a lord, wasn’t he?’’ Aria hesitated. Just for a moment, but Jhaan caught it. His dark eyes narrowed, ‘’is he not telling me something?’’

‘’Maybe he just doesn’t like talking about his past,’’ Aria said vaguely, taking a healthy gulp of her ale, ‘’he hasn’t told me about it either,’’ she added.

Jhaan turned back to his ale. Clearly, Aria didn’t know much more than he did about Arthion, ‘’his hands were calloused,’’ he murmured, ‘’like he was used to hard work. They weren’t the hands of nobility at all.’’

‘’Don’t dwell on it, Mr Leake,’’ Aria said, ‘’it won’t do either of you any good.’’

*~*~*

Othelen padded through the empty, stone corridors of the underground palace.

He did not feel the power in his step, in his back, like he used to. In his wolf form, he’d been magnificent. This scraggly dog body that Fengor had cursed him into was an insult. He felt ashamed appearing in it before anyone, but he had no choice. He couldn’t cower in the dark corners of Solin Underground and let his daughter do all the work. So, like many times in the last eighteen years, he’d slipped through the hole he’d dug between the barrels in the wine cellar – which were there just for show, of course – and padded through the castle that was the prison of the love of his life. Everything here – the cold stone rooms, the throne, the tapestries – were poor imitations of the palace on the surface, grey and made of stone. Othelen ignored all of them, going straight for the council room where he knew his family was. Antorn Morrigen didn’t come here. Fengor himself only graced this palace once or twice before. This prison was isolated from the whole world, even the underground one.

Othelen walked in on the royal family arguing.

Edgar Eiris – once King of Solin – had been sat on the stone throne but was now up, ranting. He looked worn out – hollow cheeks, wrinkled face, greying dark hair, tired eyes...in comparison his opponent, though at least two decades older than him, seemed to thrive when she argued. Cassia Blackwood, though nearing an ancient age, refused to be bent-backed or weak. She stood straight, leaning only on a cane. Her long hair, once red, was white with age and braided with beads and limp feathers. Her form, under her old gown, spoke of her years as a pirate. She and her son by law argued, like they always argued. Edgar’s husband, Arne, formerly a witchling, was sprawled over the throne, looking bored and vaguely irritated. Age had shrunk the already small man and from a distance he looked almost like a child.

Jasper was by himself.

Othelen’s husband leaned against the window, looking out of it sadly. Form the height at which the palace was built, perched on a copse of dark rock, he could see only tiny people milling around dark, bland streets. Not much of a view. But he heard the soft pat of Othelen’s paws on the stone floor and he when he turned, his double-coloured eyes lit up, ‘’Othee...’’ he whispered and then he surged for his husband. Othelen ran for him just as Jas slid to his knees and enveloped him in a warm hug, burying his face in his neck, ‘’I’ve missed you,’’ he whispered.

Othelen licked his cheek in response to let him know that he had, too. These days he didn’t risk coming to the palace often, lest he be found. There was no doubt that the next time he faced Fengor, he’d be killed on the spot. Jasper ran his hands through Othelen’s limp fur, behind his ears, over his muzzle, under his eyes, as if checking if he was okay. Othelen licked his palm and Jas smiled, kissing the tip of his nose and plucking the letter from between his teeth, ‘’are you well, Othelen? How are our children?’’

Othelen gave a soft yap – Jas knew by now that meant they were fine.

Jasper smiled at him. Othelen settled at his feet as he read the letter briskly, stroking behind his ears. Arne, Edgar and Cassia came over, ‘’Othelen,’’ Cassia said, the tap of her cane filling the throne room, ‘’you bring news?’’

‘’More of a warning, grandmother,’’ Jas sighed, ‘’the search for him has quickened, but Ride continues her efforts,’’ Jas looked up at his family, ‘’she will get us out of here. I just wish...’’ he sighed, looking down at Othelen, ‘’I wish it could be me risking my life for Solin. I can’t bear to think about losing another one of our children.’’

Othelen’s heart clenched as he remembered Hilarion – the white haired babe, so similar to him, before Fengor ripped him away and ended the tiny life that had only just been born. Othelen lay his head in Jasper’s lap, sharing in his husband’s grief.

That was all they could do as they waited – and hoped – to see sunlight again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! If you like my style of writing and want to read some more BL short stories - or even request some - then check out my page! You can read the next five chapters of 013: Hawthorne and over 30 short stories and the new chapters coming out in the following week all for just $1! It would mean the world if you guys could support me! <3 Read below for the latest short stories the page offers!
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	5. The Language of Liars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PREVIOUSLY ON BLOODLINE  
> In Solin Underground, Othelen is still wanted; he continues to sneak messages between Nerideth, the leader of the rebels, and his husband Jasper in the underground palace.  
> In Elisen’s tower, Elisen’s desire grows, prompting Vaeril to share a sudden and unexpected kiss with his ward.  
> In Kingsbridge, the Witchlands team finds that everyone is too afraid to talk about the missing boy they’re looking for.  
> In the Moher Mountains, Aza’s grandmother warns him of his curse which he must not pass on. Nym comes to fetch Aza, demanding he spend time with his new husband during the day if he will not be with him at night.  
> In Arnheim, a staged scandal fails to cancel the wedding between Faelan and Thorn, and Fae succumbs to his fate.  
> In Khandar, Dain is torn between loyalty to his governor or his mate. He tells Moth all he knows of Roxton’s plans. Moth tells his tribe about the Shore People’s plans to expand. Jhaan is beginning to suspect Arthion may be lying about where he comes from. Aria spies on her wife, Jana Roxton, and the governor as they plot again and is caught. She seduces Jana and gets away with it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my lovelies! I know I said shorter chapters...and yet here we are xD 
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> \- A lot of you have complained that there are too many characters & the story feels too big for its own good sometimes - completely fair! I will minimise the amount of storylines if I end up doing part 6 and I will cut out any unnecessary characters from Bloodline that haven't been mentioned yet! Please refer to the family tree if you're struggling with the characters! (link on chapter 2 I believe) 
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> \- I'll try to slip in some nuggets for the suggestions you've made, like seeing couples from other installments and some more parenting moments! For couples that hate each other at the beginning, I always try to stick one of those in at least once in every story :) Darker themes, a female dictator, single parents, court politics and the other ideas you all have suggested are awesome, I will note them all down! Thank you & keep them coming! 
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> \- Someone mentioned that a lot of the characters are similar to others becuase there's so many of them - I see your point! I've gone and added a personality trait/quirk to most of the main characters that will make them more interesting & original, and I'll be implementing them in the next few chapters :D hope that helps at least a little! 
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> Wash your hands & stay safe <3

‘’Where are we going?’’ Aza called to Nym, who couldn’t help but feel irritated. His new husband didn’t seem bothered that Nym was dragging him to an unknown destination. Did anything frazzle him?

‘’Up,’’ Nym snapped, coming to a stop at the steep, rocky wall of the Eastern mountain. Once upon a time it had been the hideout of the bandits, but after an earthquake collapsed the tunnels within, they relocated to the centre mountain. The Eastern mountain was now used only for their most ancient ritual – one that made you a bandit in the first place. Nym doubted Azariah was ready for that yet – he was so frail, after all. But it would be a good test. And Nym was sure he’d have the upper hand. He’d been climbing since he learned how to walk.

‘’Up?’’ Azariah’s smile finally disappeared as he raised a pale eyebrow, peering at the vertical drop, ‘’are you insane, or...?’’

‘’Nope,’’ Nym untied his rope from around his belt and tossed it around Aza’s hips, under the cloak he’d given him. He tied the rope securely to him, and then to himself, connecting them.

Azariah plucked it with his finger as if he was strumming his gittern, ‘’and this is supposed to catch me if I fall?’’

‘’No,’’ Nym smirked, ‘’ _I_ am. But I won’t if you piss me off, so watch yourself.’’

‘’Hmm,’’ Aza, strangely, did not seem bothered. He tugged on the rope again, ‘’but what if I refuse to goooo-hey!’’ finally irritation crept into his voice as Nym simply started walking. He was a little taller than Azariah – he was also stronger, more muscular and his shoulders were broader – his legs were longer and stronger, too. Aza tried to dig his feet in but Nym ploughed on, pulling him along, so Aza had no choice but to follow him to the foot of the drop.

‘’Try not to fall. We won’t go far,’’ Nym said smugly and began climbing.

Aza kissed his teeth under his breath. He found Nym bossing him around amusing, but only when he wasn’t actually making him do things. He didn’t like that Nym could drag him around as he pleased. He reached for the rope around his waist to untie it but Nym climbed with shocking agility and in seconds, the rope was digging into Aza’s ribcage as he stood on his tip-toes. It pulled him up as Nym climbed without a care in the world and so Aza had no choice but to climb. His fingers closed into the jagged crevices of the mountain uncertainly and he hefted himself up. He was rather nimble and lithe but he wasn’t a climber. He’d spent all his life in no-man’s land surrounding Wotan. Forests and hills and the sky were his element – not mountains. Not yet.

‘’Slow down!’’ Azariah called, his foot slipping a little as he tried to catch up with Nym.

Nym laughed mockingly and Aza felt another pin-prick of irritation for his new husband, ‘’what, can’t keep up!?’’

Azariah gritted his teeth. He was usually a calm person but he hated being controlled and Nym was doing it so easily, so _infuriatingly_... without thinking, Aza grabbed the rope between them and yanked. Nym gave a short yelp as he suddenly found himself jerked back. Aza grunted in pain as the rope cut into his stomach when Nym dangled below him, supported only by Aza’s hands and feet desperately clinging onto the crevices, ‘’bastard, are you mad!’’ Nym yelled at him. A second later the strain on Aza’s stomach was gone as Nym found his footing on the jagged stone below him.

‘’I set the pace,’’ Aza said and began climbing again.

He wasn’t afraid of heights but the climb was difficult. His fingers and face grew cold and numb quickly enough. The wind whipped the blond hair that escaped his ghastly helmet. His cloak felt like it weighed a tonne. Still, he didn’t give Nym the satisfaction of hearing him complain. He climbed on and with each second, he felt heavier and heavier... ‘’enough!’’ Nym called from below him, ‘’to your left!’’

Aza looked and saw a stone plate jutting out from the side of the mountain, almost like a balcony. It looked stable, like a dragon’s tooth, embedded in the ancient mountain. With some difficulty, Azariah veered himself onto it, sitting down heavily and catching his breath. Nym jumped up next to a second later. He wasn’t even out of breath, looking spry and satisfied. Never before in the short time they’d known each other did Aza want to smash the sole of his boot into his face so much. He pointedly ignored his husband until, suddenly, he was yanked back. The Kåvieh-Dah bard unexpectedly found himself on his back on Nym’s cloak, which now lay on the floor like a blanket. Nym was on top of him in two seconds.

Aza tried to sit up, managing to prop himself up on his elbows before his nose brushed Nym’s, ‘’what are you doing?’’ he demanded.

Nym grasped Aza’s helmet and pulled it off, sending his pale hair tumbling in his eyes. The helmet was set next to Azariah’s and the boy grunted as he was pushed back down onto the cape, ‘’consummating my marriage,’’ Nym said with a smirk. He could tell Azariah was annoyed and it gave him the upper hand, made him feel better.

‘’You can only consummate your marriage once,’’ Aza said coldly. _You simpering, ordinary idiot_ , he added in his head. This day had suddenly gone from bad to worse to _agonizing._ Azariah didn’t care that he was married to Nym – he would do anything to keep his tribe safe. He didn’t care that he’d have to occasionally have to fulfil his husbandly duties. But to actually have to spend _time_ with Nym was not something he longed for – especially when that time was spent climbing steep mountains and then landing on his back with his husband atop him.

‘’Yes, well,’’ Nym pushed Aza’s hair out of his eyes but it was blown right back by the wind, ‘’we must try for a child, right?’’ he grinned, ‘’I want them to be Halin’s protégé – and then the next bandit ruler.’’

Azariah had half the mind to kick Nym off, but the he remembered. A child. An ordinary child. Until one without a curse was born, the Kåvieh-Dah would not be able to breathe properly. The reason why they left behind their land, why they came here...it was all to end the curse. To end it with Aza, so that their people would never be enslaved again...when Azariah didn’t protest, Nym grabbed his arm and flipped him around roughly. Despite the cloak beneath him, Aza felt the stone; the wind was becoming unbearably cold now that they were not moving. Nym didn’t seem to care, pulling down Aza’s pants and fingering him roughly. He must have been truly at his limit because he did not take care with it. Azariah winced but with his back to Nym, the bandit didn’t see. It was only their second time together and Nym must have forgotten that bodies were more delicate than he gave them credit for. He prepared Aza as quickly as possible. When he pushed in, the pain made Aza grunt softly but he gritted his teeth and took it. He had to have that child. He had to...

When Nym thrust, it was so hard he drove Nym forward a little. His forearm caught on a pebble as it dragged from the cloak to the ground, cutting a thin line. Nym, thankfully, noticed, and stopped, ‘’oh...’’ he breathed. He sounded petrified, ‘’oh, shit, I...’’ he pulled out roughly and Aza flinched, registering that pain more than the cut. Nym quickly gathered him up and turned him back around, ‘’crap, does it...um...’’ he pulled the sleeve of his tunic over his wrist and dabbed at the cut. He was flustered and panicking a little. Aza couldn’t help but smile. Nym’s care came out of nowhere. It was akin to a child’s when they broke a vase or something. It was...kind of endearing, Aza had to admit, ‘’does it hurt?’’ Nym’s worry-filled brown eyes flicked to Aza’s.

‘’It’s nothing,’’ Azariah assured. He snatched Nym’s cloak from the ground and threw it around his shoulders, tucking it around both of them as the wind whipped through their hair. Now that he had the upper hand again, he felt like playing with his husband a little. He found his cock, which had gone limp, and slid his fingers gently over it, ‘’come on...weren’t we going to make a child?’’

Nym’s freckled eyes flushed red. He shifted, pulling Azariah properly onto his lap, ‘’we were,’’ he mumbled.

Aza tilted his head and kissed his jaw, ‘’let’s do it, then,’’ he murmured against his ear. His hand became more firm on Nym’s member and he pumped it into full hardness. In seconds, he had Nym breathing, shuddering, against his shoulder beneath the cape.

‘’H-how...are you so good...at this?’’ he panted out.

Aza just chuckled. He took control again, lifting his hips and pushing Nym’s cock inside him on his own time. Nym seemed more than happy to let him do it. His eyes fluttered shut and he groaned as Aza lowered himself onto him slowly. He wrapped his arms around Aza’s waist and began thrusting up as Aza bounced slowly in his lap. He lost himself in the pleasure – again. Aza smiled, watching him relax completely, give in. He was such a simple person. Aza almost like him – when he kept his mouth shut. Taken over by a wave of affection that he always got when someone made love to him, he brushed away Nym’s ginger hair out of his eyes and pressed a kiss to his bandana.

Nym came a few minutes later, holding out a little longer than his first time. When he did, Aza was hard, but far from finishing. He knelt up and Nym – limp and spent – slipped out of him. The Kåvieh-Dah made as if to get up but, with surprising strength for someone who had just come, Nym grabbed his shoulder and forced him back down into his lap, ‘’you don’t get to escape this time,’’ he murmured. He put an arm around Aza’s waist under the cloak and grasped his member with his free hand. His movements were jagged, erratic and clumsy, but his hand was warm even in the unforgiving coldness of the mountain and his wrist moved enthusiastically. Aza didn’t want to give Nym the victory of his pleasure, but after only a moment he gave in. He’d been pent up for too long. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Nym’s shoulders and sighing with soft pleasure into the air.

Nym was determined to pull moans out of Aza’s lips – maybe, even, the sound of his own name – but he was only rewarded with soft sighs and a strained grunt when Aza finally came all over Nym’s hand.

‘’You’re getting better,’’ Aza chuckled casually, sorting out his clothes.

Nym cleared his throat awkwardly as they stood, embarrassed. They had just had sex after all – and outdoors above a terrifying drop, but Aza acted as if they’d just had tea in some parlour. Nym promised himself that next time, he’d make his bride howl with pleasure.

They made their way down the mountain.

*~*~*

‘’This is a lot of ground to cover,’’ Orland observed, peering at the map spread out on the grass. It was morning. Cold mist hung in the air and the witches, bundled up in their capes to ward off the chill, had just put out their fire. Kingsbridge had been a no-go. It had been their best shot but with the cruel usurper King on the throne, it didn’t look like anyone was willing to give them any information on missing Hilarion, even as far as the border, ‘’Kainan is huge, if you think about it. We don’t even have horses...’’

‘’That’s why the previous teams failed,’’ Aliza said. While everyone else fretted over the map, she sat a little apart, braiding her ginger hair. She seemed without a care in the world but Dorn noticed the way she pulled the strands of hair tighter than usual, hiding her frustrations, ‘’but we won’t be daunted.’’

Diya grinned, ‘’I like her,’’ he told Ravor.

Dorn saw the dark faerie glance at his sister with something like admiration – or acknowledgement, at least. He tried to push down the stirrings of jealousy that tickled his gut. He’d been jealous of his sister his whole life. She was stronger, smarter, prettier, more confident, more powerful...Dorn ducked his head down, pushing his circular spectacles up his nose and trying to not care, ‘’your determination is nice and all,’’ Orland said dryly, patting his perfectly neat, pale brown hair down, ‘’but that doesn’t exactly give us a plan of action. Or a direction.’’

Aliza stood, ‘’I’ll give you a direction,’’ she snatched one of the arrows from Cal’s quiver from where he sat cross-legged by Orland and, in one quick swipe, threw it at Orland’s map. The tip embedded neatly in the little, aged marking of the Moher Mountains. Taryn, who sat the closest to Koln on the map, yelped and flinched away from the sudden arrow embedded near her knee.

Ravor frowned, leaning over the map, ‘’the Moher Mountains? Why?’’

‘’We have family there,’’ Liz jerked her chin at Dorn, ‘’and the bandits will tell us what’s going on, even if no one else will.’’

‘’It’s going to be a long journey,’’ Orland warned, tracing a path with his finger on the map.

‘’Well, no one said it was going to be a trip to the sea,’’ Aliza just said.

‘’Bandits,’’ Orland folded up his map and sighed, ‘’I don’t like it...’’

‘’I don’t like any of this,’’ Taryn piped up suddenly. All looked to her – she’d barely spoken since she’d been found out. Now, she glanced in the direction of the towering moat bridge in Kingsbridge, which did not look any less imposing in the watery daylight, ‘’this whole things just feels... _wrong_.’’ 

‘’If you think so,’’ Aliza said coldly, grabbing her pack and shrugging it on, ‘’then maybe you should have just stayed at the academy.’’

Taryn shrivelled in on herself as Aliza took position at the head of the column and began marching. She quickly lost herself in her own morbid thoughts. The vision she’d had made it hard to sleep at night. She’d seen half her teammates get hurt. She’d seen her own brother in pain. Somehow, he was the key to all this. They were heading into mortal danger and only Aliza knew about it – but the voice had told her not to turn back. Whatever quest they had picked would change the course of their lives forever. And it all might be for nought, in the end...

Because the boy missing for the last eighteen years might be dead already.

*~*~*

Vaeril did not return to Elisen’s tower for four days. When Eli finally heard the rumble of the mechanisms keeping him safe inside the tower, he jumped up, surprised. He hurried to the centre of the room, swallowing thickly and straightening his posture. Vae practically never used his magic to open the mechanisms – he always had Elisen trigger the locks manually. One of the first lessons Vae taught him was that magic should not be taken for granted and, where you could, you should go without it. You shouldn’t rely on your powers. He held witchlings to high regard – they could only use their hidden powers a few times in their lifetime and the price for using it all was their witch nature. Normal witches, Vae always lectured, did not appreciate the magic they were born to wield. So him using his powers to open the mechanisms troubled Elisen. That and the fact that he hadn’t come back for so long. The last thing Vae did was kiss Elisen before disappearing. Eli had spent four days worrying about his keeper and now that he was back safely, Eli automatically felt his cheeks heat as he remembered the kiss. The strangeness of it...how good it had felt...

He forced his blush to dissipate by the time the tower went quiet again and Vae walked in. He went from the corridor straight to Eli’s bedroom. He looked worn out. Tired. Exhausted, even. There were shadows under his eyes and his usually glowing, light brown skin was ashy and dull. He set the basket of food on Eli’s bed and didn’t even bother taking his cloak off as he sat down by it. He pressed the balls of his palms to his eyes – one blood-red, the other dark as his hair – and said in a tired voice, ‘’have you been practicing your spells?’’

‘’Yes,’’ Eli squeaked, worried about Vaeril, ‘’Vae...are you alright?’’

‘’Show me,’’ Vae just sighed. Eli hurried to stand in front of the bed, directly opposite Vae. He concentrated, holding his palm out, facing each other. He summoned a flame. He was not a fire Elementalist but Vaeril honed his magic to degrees Eli didn’t even think possible. Outside of his earth powers, he could do small tricks with other elements and even other schools of magic. Still, he was so occupied with Vae – their kiss, his haggard appearance – that the flame quickly flickered out. Eli glanced nervously at Vae, who watched him from beneath his hood. His eyes looked dark and gloom in the shadows of it, ‘’again,’’ he ordered.

Eli tried but Vae’s commanding voice just made him more nervous and he could not summon more than a measly spark. Vae stood suddenly, sending Eli stumbling back a step, ‘’useless,’’ he snapped, ‘’you have all the time in the world and you can’t even-‘’ he caught himself, taking a deep breath. When he exhaled, his shoulders sagged, ‘’I’m sorry,’’ he said quietly, ‘’I’ve had a rough couple of days.’’

‘’Is it the creatures?’’ Eli asked hesitantly, ‘’the ones from King Meriden’s book?’’

Vaeril nodded, ‘’I’ve been searching for a particularly strong one, but I can’t find the bastard anywhere.’’

‘’Is that why you’ve been gone four days?’’ Eli prompted.

‘’Yes,’’ Vae’s eyes flicked to Elisen’s and then they softened. He reached out, thought better of it and dropped his hand. Seeing it drop made a pin-prick of sadness go through Eli’s heart, ‘’I’m glad to be back. If I could, I’d stay here, at home...’’ he looked away quickly, ‘’with you.’’

Eli felt his cheeks heat again. Vae rarely showed affection. He rarely showed how much he cared, too, ‘’I’m sorry,’’ the earth witch blurted, ‘’f-for getting spooked...when you...’’ he rubbed his forearm, embarrassed, ‘’kissed me.’’

Vae closed his eyes briefly, as if hearing Eli say it pained him, ‘’forgive me. I never should have-‘’

‘’No!’’ Eli said quickly and Vae looked at him sharply. Elisen bit his lip, dropping his eyes to the floor. He tugged at the end of his pure-white braid anxiously, ‘’I was going to ask if you could...d-do it...again?’’ his voice lilted at the end, hopeful.

Vae’s eyes widened, ‘’...again?’’ he echoed in disbelief, ‘’why would you want me to...?’’

Elisen shyly raised his eyes to Vaeril’s, ‘’it’s all I’ve been thinking about,’’ he confessed. When Vaeril just stared at him, he added a tiny, ‘’please?’’ Elisen expected Vaeril to say no. He expected him to stall or make excused or, maybe, finally, begrudgingly kiss Eli.

He didn’t expect Vaeril to lose control.

He surged forward, grabbing Eli’s waist and yanking him closer. Elisen only had time to gasp as he felt Vae’s powerful body press against his before their mouths were pressed together. It was completely different to the first kiss Vae had bestowed upon him. This one was of fire and deep, dark, heavy lust that Elisen forced himself not to acknowledge. It surged up in his stomach as Vaeril easily slid his tongue into Eli’s mouth. When Eli felt it explore his mouth, his knees went weak. He sagged against Vaeril, who held him up easily. He tilted his head, kissing Elisen harder. A helpless whine broke from Eli’s throat as his stomach sent a spike of something akin to adrenaline through his body. When Vaeril finally broke the kiss, Eli was breathing hard. But Vae didn’t stop. He tilted his head and kissed Elisen’s neck. The brush of his lips and tongue on the sensitive skin there sent a shiver up Eli’s spine. His eyes fluttered shut. Sub-consciously, he pushed Vae’s hood off his black curls and tangled a hand in them. That only made Vae kiss Elisen’s neck harder, leaving a mark. His teeth scarped Eli’s throat and the white-haired witch let out a soft, breathy moan.

That finally broke Vae out of his stupor.

He stumbled back, eyes wide, breathing hard, ‘’I...I...’’

Without his support, Elisen sagged helplessly against the wall. His heart was pounding like mad – as if he’d just ran three laps around the labyrinth. He couldn’t pry his eyes from Vaeril. Vae snapped out of it first. He cleared his throat and straightened his posture, standing with his arms behind his back like a soldier – like he always did, ‘’that’s enough for today,’’ he said curtly, as if they’d just done combat training rather than a heated make-out session, ‘’do you spells.’’

Elisen couldn’t gather himself. He felt like a mess. Vae had made a mess of him and Elisen didn’t know how to fix it – he didn’t even know if he _wanted_ to fix it, ‘’I don’t think I can,’’ he whispered.

‘’Fine,’’ Vae said curtly, which was the fastest he’d ever let Eli off the hook when studying magic came into regard. He snatched up the basket from the bed, ‘’I will prepare dinner,’’ he left the room briskly, leaving Elisen alone.

Elisen ran for the bed and threw himself on it. He grabbed his pillow and hid his burning face in it.

*~*~*

Faelan had never truly believed he’d leave Arnheim behind. In his mind, ever since he was little, the engagement with Thorn was something that he would break eventually. He’d never imagined he’d be at the docks of Port Calder, with a ship at his back that would take him to Kainan – a strange, foreign land where he would marry Thorn. He glanced at his fiancé as he stood on the busy docks. He was commanding servants with the last of Fae’s luggage, making a point of not looking at his bride. Faelan had only been able to glimpse the shock on Thorn’s face when the wedding was called back on. From then on, for the last few days, Faelan was thrown into a flurry of packing and preparations. Thorn hadn’t come to see him once. Fae was secretly grateful – but he knew he couldn’t avoid his future husband from now on. He glanced down the line. Both Airen and Faeryn Moreland had many children – a few would not be missed at the palace.

Aira Eiris, his mute cousin, and her brother, Saromír, would accompany Airen to Kainan as his companions and confidantes. They, too, were giving up their life here in Arnheim and devoting themselves to protecting the future consort of Hailbronn. As they said goodbye to their parents, princess Faeryn and prince Brannen, Airen turned to his own family. They awaited the goodbyes, stone-faced and straight-backed. There was no hint of tears. They were of Arnheim. They did not cry.

Fae marched up to Darmor first, his boots crunching in the thick snow. The heavy clouds above promised a blizzard in the next few days. His brother was steely-faced, his skull sword peeking out from behind his shoulder, his dark brown hair pushed out of his face, his blue eyes cold as the ice of Fallkirk. He was Arhanese, through and through – maybe a little too much. The cruelty that Darmor seemed to posses worried Fae sometimes. He was the future king, afterall. Faelan couldn’t help but feel a little resentment for his younger brother as he extended out his arm. He should have been King. He was the first-born. But, instead, he was snatched from his throne by some Kai bastard wanting to make him his bride. Darmor clasped Faelan’s arm, giving him a little, awkward smile. Darmor’s destiny to be King in Faelan’s stead had made them grow apart quickly as children, ‘’safe travels, brother,’’ Darmor said.

Faelan studied him, ‘’be a good King to our people,’’ he said quietly, releasing his arm. As he walked on to his two younger brothers, he wondered if he’d ever see Arnheim again. He stopped in front of sixteen year old Ailas, who looked just like their father, Airen, and seemed to have sucked up all the gentleness that Darmor was supposed to have. Faelan could tell he was faking bravery as he raised his chin and saluted his older brother. Fae smiled, reaching out and ruffling his hair, ‘’be good,’’ he just said.

‘’I will,’’ Ailas said, ‘’w-write to us...sometimes...’’

‘’I will,’’ Fae promised. Writing letters for the sake of writing letters was so sentimental and pointless, but Fae would write.

Nine year old Guthale, who looked almost exactly like Faelan, didn’t seem to understand that Fae was going away forever. He clasped his brother’s arm and then went back to fiddling with the short dagger strapped to his side. Fae clasped hands with his grandfather, Kaen, and allowed his other grandfather, Airleas, to hug him briefly. Then it was time for his parents. Airen took his hands in his instead of clasping his forearm and gave them a strong squeeze, ‘’we’re always right here,’’ he said and Fae wondered if he heard his voice crack, ‘’ _always_.’’

Fae nodded, feeling his throat close up. He rarely got sad. He never cried, so he just nodded, ‘’take care.’’

He said goodbye to Daran, who looked like he wanted to pull him into a hug, too, but there were a lot of people around and he had to keep up his reputation of being the fearsome Monster King. He gave his son a firm nod, ‘’do us proud.’’

‘’I will, father,’’ Faelan said. He took a deep breath and turned away from his immediate family.

He said goodbye to aunt Faeryn and Brannen, then to Radagmal and the youngest, seventeen year old Chamon, who gave him a broad grin, his white-blond curls swinging as he said, ‘’have fun in Kainan!’’

Fae smacked him upside the head, ‘’don’t cause trouble,’’ he managed a smile but as soon as he turned from them all and began walking up the plank to the ship, his smile disappeared. Thorn was already inside and, as much as Fae despised him, he wished he was at his side. He didn’t want to make the walk alone but he had to and with each step, he felt like his body was growing heavier. The urge to turn around and look at his family one last time nearly knocked the breath out of him.

 _Don’t be a weakling,_ he hissed at himself, entering the ship.

When he did, he felt like he’d torn out his heart from his chest and dropped it on the shores of Arnheim.

*~*~*

‘’You’re Jhaan Leake, aren’t you?’’

Jhaan was on his third cup of ale, which meant that his blood was buzzing but his mind was still clear – too clear. Without work to distract him, the evenings were unbearable sober – all he could think about was his family. Their deaths. What happened to Mutzre. He sighed, leaning his face on his hand and swirling the ale in his cup, ‘’unfortunately,’’ he grumbled. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone. Most evenings the only bearable person to drink with was Aria, who frequented the only tavern in New Vallarta almost as much as Jhaan. Jhaan drank with her sometimes but most of the time, he reverted to brooding by himself and drinking until he forgot the pain...or until he passed out.

A Moriyan man with half his black curls shaved on one side and a broad sword strapped to his back slid into the bench opposite Jhaan. The labourer vaguely recognised him as an ex-guard that got off the same ship as Arthion, ‘’I’m Jasim Shaed.’’

‘’I don’t care,’’ Jhaan said glumly, taking a big gulp of his ale.

‘’You’re married to Arthion Fade, aren’t you?’’

That caught Jhaan’s attention. He set down his drink and glared at Jasim, ‘’it’s Arthion Leake now,’’ he said icily. First that red head bastard Khalil Vult got all friendly with his husband, and now this man, too. Jhaan was used to fighting for his life, not his bride.

‘’Is it?’’ Jasim said breezily.

Jhaan’s sandy brows knitted together, ‘’we’re married. If you’re questioning-‘’

‘’I’m sure you’ve noticed,’’ Jasim interrupted him calmly, ‘’how strange he is.’’

Jhaan frowned. Arthion, strange? The ale was making his memory fuzzy but, through the fog, he remembered the rough calluses of his hands. He narrowed his dark brown eyes at Jasim, ‘’why are you so interested in him?’’ he barked.

Jasim’s sharp, snake-like eyes narrowed, ‘’my last job as a guard was to look after Lord Fade during his passage to Khandar. I noticed his...strange behaviours then.’’

‘’Strange how?’’ Jhaan demanded, his hand tightening on his cup.

Jasim gave him a warning look, ‘’he doesn’t act like a noble.’’

Jhaan didn’t want to think about it, but his mind went on a tangent anyway. Now that he thought about it, Jasim Shaed was right. Arthion didn’t mind sleeping and living in Jhaan’s humble house. He didn’t shy away from housework and he did not get disgusted by the murky state of the whole village. His response to Jhaan being passed out at the tavern was to take over his shift. And the calluses on his hands, like he’d worked before...Arthion was either very good at adapting, or...or... or what? ‘’I don’t care,’’ Jhaan barked, though a seed of uncertainty had been planted. He snatched his drink from the table, ‘’we’ve all come here for our reasons. We all want to start a new life. We all have that right,’’ he tipped back his drink, gulping the ale down as if it was life-saving water. In a way, it was. If he didn’t have alcohol and tough work to keep him occupied, his dark memories would have concluded with him hanging from a ceiling with a noose around his neck.

Jasim watched him drink. Finally, he slid his own cup over to Jhaan and rose, ‘’the ship that brought us here leaves for Kainan tomorrow morning. I intend to send a letter back with it, acquiring about Arthion Fade,’’ he paused by Jasim’s bench, looking down at him, ‘’I’ll let you know what I find out about your husband,’’ he said and walked out of the tavern, leaving Jhaan to drink his worries away.

*~*~*

‘’Airen...Airen!’’ Daran finally managed to catch up with his husband near their room, back at the Arhanese palace. He caught his wrist and whirled him round, pinning him against the wall so he had nowhere to run to, ‘’calm down!’’

His husband had stormed off as soon as Faelan’s ship set sail. Daran felt all the same thing Airen felt – sadness, worry, regret – but he was better at hiding it. At his core, Airen was Yamese. He came from a nation that painted flowers on their buildings and liked pretty things. Daran was not surprised to see tears in Airen’s eyes. Over the more than two decades of being together, Airen had cried countless times in front of Daran – and Daran had trusted his husband enough to cry before him a few times, too, ‘’he’s gone...’’ Airen choked out, ‘’our eldest...our son...’’

‘’Airen...’’ Daran’s voice softened. He pushed open the doors to their chambers and pulled Airen inside. Airen wiped at his eyes, furious about his own tears, ‘’he will be safe with Thorn in Kainan. He will be happy.’’

‘’You don’t know that!’’ Airen exploded. He went as if to pace, then just ran his hands through his long blond hair, ‘’gods, what if we made a mistake... what if Faelan will hate Kainan and he’ll hate his husband and he’ll hate his whole life-‘’

‘’Airen-‘’

‘’Gods...’’ Airen’s face crumpled and he wrapped his arms around himself, ‘’it’s like watching us happen all over again.’’

Daran put his hands on Airen’s elbows, ‘’we turned out alright in the end,’’ he assured warmly.

Airen raised his glassy, green eyes to Daran, ‘’what if they don’t?’’ he whispered fearfully.

‘’Then we will bring our son back,’’ Daran said firmly, ‘’Airen, you have to let him go. Let him do his part. He is a warrior, like me and my father and my mother before him. He wants to bring glory and honour to our family, like all Arhanese warriors do.’’

Airen took a deep, shaky breath, ‘’sometimes I wish-‘’ he cut off sharply.

But Daran just gave him a soft, sad smile, ‘’I know. I know what you wish. And I don’t blame you for it.’’

Airen blinked back tears, looking at Daran again, ‘’I love you,’’ he whispered.

Daran’s smile grew brighter. He pulled Airen into his arms, kissing the top of his head and holding him close, ‘’and I love you. With all my heart.’’

Airen let Daran hold him and chase all his worries away.

*~*~*

‘’Where are you going?’’

Aria froze at the doors to the extravagant (or as extravagant as you could get in Khandar) house that she was sure Jana didn’t build herself. The sound of her wife’s stern voice made her turn slowly. She was out of those wretched, pretty dresses that Jana insisted she wear – they reminded her too much of the life she’d lost in Asakura. She was decked out in the tunic and pants that she came to Khandar with, which she wore most night to the tavern, ‘’I’m meeting a friend,’’ she lied. She wouldn’t classify Jhaan Leake as a friend. More like a drunkard she occasionally drank with.

‘’Come,’’ Jana turned, her extravagant purple skirts swishing, ‘’there is something we must discuss.’’

Aria looked back at the doors with longing but eventually huffed and followed Jana into the kitchen. She froze up again when she saw Crass Roxton sitting at the table, littered with maps, letters and little wooden figurines. Many were painted in the colours of the three tribes – blue for Hasinai, green for Myaamia and grey for Mohigan. It looked almost like a battle plan, ‘’um...what is it?’’ Aria asked weakly.

Jana sat swiftly opposite her father and motioned for Aria to sit down, too, ‘’you’re always eavesdropping,’’ she said calmly, ‘’when there is no need. You are my wife – part of the Roxton family. You should know of our plans.’’

Aria _really_ didn’t want to know about their plans. She liked her information but not when it was so clearly dangerous, ‘’that’s okay,’’ she took a step back but Jana dragged out a chair for her. Aria had no choice but to sit at her wife’s side, opposite the governor.

‘’This,’’ Roxton pointed a finger at a wooden block placed near the shoreline on the map. His hands were perfectly clean – he did not work with the others. The huge rings he wore seemed so out of place in a simple town like New Vallarta – but things were about to get complicated, clearly, ‘’is our town. Nothing more than a town. Tiny and insignificant. This,’’ he pointed to large sections of the map, sectioned with paint representing each of the tribes. Each section was at least thrice as large as New Vallarta, ‘’is all the land the tribes own. Far too much, wouldn’t you say?’’

Aria swallowed uncertainly, ‘’but isn’t it their land, sir?’’

Roxton spread his hands, ‘’is it? What difference is there between them and us, other than that they got here first?’’

‘’I don’t know, sir,’’ Aria said truthfully. She wasn’t a thinker. She’d been a seamstress and then a criminal.

‘’Exactly,’’ Roxton seemed pleased, his mouth pulled into a smile under his greying moustache, ‘’and look here,’’ he showed all the empty land between them and the tribes of the cities, ‘’all this land, not being used. And here!’’ he patted a large area at the northern coast, labelled as ‘Hekinan- City of Peace’, ‘’it is their sacred city but it has been abandoned for millennia. Our scouts report that though overgrown, the buildings there are sturdy and would provide good foundation for magnificent cities. Imagine,’’ he drew a line from New Vallarta to Hekinan, cutting through Tetawken forest and their old city, Waphani, now part of the Mohigan tribe. His finger drew through the western part of Mishawka, the Hasinai city and finally reached the city of peace, ‘’New Vallarta stretching all this way. It would rival the royal city in Hida. It would rival all cities of all the other kingdoms,’’ greed glinted in his dark eyes.

‘’I don’t understand,’’ Aria looked to Jana. Though she did not trust the woman, she was less scary than her father. And, in the end, she was Aria’s wife, ‘’the tribes will never agree to it. Even I know there’s already tensions over minor territory breaches. How could we possibly take all this land from them?’’

‘’With soldiers,’’ Jana said simply.

Aria looked in terror at Crass, who smirked, ‘’as we speak, ships are setting sail from the nine principalities of Mutzre. By the time they reach our shores, we will be so powerful the tribes of Khandar will have no choice but to give in to our demands.’’

Aria felt like she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t believe it. She’d left Asakura behind because there had been nothing there for her...and she’d walked straight into a place that would soon become a warzone. And she wasn’t even on the good side, ‘’or...?’

‘’Or we will wipe them out,’’ Crass said simply, as if talking about gutting a chicken, ‘’this may be too much for your delicate sensibilities but trust me, it is for the greater good of our people.’’

Aria opened her mouth. She wanted to say that it was wrong. She wanted to demand what made their people more important than the natives of Hasinai. Before she could, Jana smiled at her, ‘’you will help us make this city great, won’t you?’’

And Aria realised if she said no, she was as good as killing herself on the spot. Because the Roxtons would not tolerate disobedience. On her lap, her fingers ached for a torch, a flare, some sort of fire, to burn this twisted carnival to the ground.

Thankfully, just then, there was a knock on the doors. A redhead soldier that Aria recognised as Khalil Vult practically flew in, looking distraught, ‘’governor...the Myaamia are here! They are demanding to speak to you!’’

*~*~*

To get to the Moher Mountains from Kingsbridge, one would have to, naturally, cross the border at Kanalei. The Witchland team, led by Aliza, stopped at the outskirts of Mirabad to buy provisions for their long journey. The city, serving as a huge Moriyan quarter, was much more alive than Kingsbridge. The team stayed near the edges of town, where markets and bazaars were set up to look like a city of tents and stalls. Where one shop ended, another started, so you could barely glimpse the murky sky. The merchants here sold everything you could possibly imagine – beautifully painted plates from Asakura, fresh but a little measly looking vegetables and frilled, glass-eyed dolls that the sellers claimed were made in Naha, the town of dolls, before it fell to the plague. There were pots of kohl and rogue for the ladies; stacks of linens taller than most people and bottles of home-made remedies. Between a woman selling bizarre, curving plants from a bedazzled carpet and a key-maker’s stall was a shabby looking building, from which spilled Moriyan immigrants working as prostitutes. They beckoned to Cal and Orland, who looked. Aliza grabbed Cal’s head and forced it down. They did not want to draw attention to themselves. Despite the bustling and liveliness of the market city, there was an air of weariness that clung to everyone. A tension. As if, at any moment, everyone here was ready to snatch up their livelihood and make a run for it.

The team, understandably, did not hang around long. They bought bread, cheese and skeins of water at inflated prices that Aliza could have haggled down, but she did not want to waste time. The atmosphere made her look over her shoulder every few seconds. It felt like danger was just around the corner; her seer senses were tingling, but a vision did not come and, after merely two hours, the team was out of Mirabad. Here, like everywhere in Kainan where there were no cities, stretched a forest. It was ancient and gnarled. Dorn and Taryn stuck close together. They’d very rarely ventured outside the two witch cities and the land of humans was scarier than they’d imagined. Calryn and Orland, who’d been on dozens of assignments before, took the lead, bickering over the map as they prowled on through the forest. Aliza was behind them, yawning every few times as if bored and sleepy – completely not freaked out by the forest, darkening by each moment as the sun began to set. Diya marched on behind her. He had a small flame that he was bouncing around between his dark fingers, and Dorn found himself mesmerised by glimpses of it.

Without a warning, he was falling.

He had only time to yelp as his foot caught on a thin rope and he was falling. It felt as if time slowed. His eyes widened as the earth before him rustled and leaves sprung apart, revealing a hunter’s trap – a metal monstrosity with claws ready to snap around whichever part of Dorn hit it first. Dorn opened his mouth to scream but the sound died in his throat as he was harshly grabbed by the arm, his face inches away from the trap. He gulped, way too close to it for comfort, before Ravor, who’d been walking last, yanked on his arm. Dorn was flung backwards with astounding force and ended up slamming into Ravor. His chest, pressed against Dorn’s back for a moment, was rock hard. Ravor shoved Dorn off him, kissing his teeth, as the whole team came to a halt, ‘’watch where you’re going,’’ the navy-haired night fae snapped.

‘’S-s-sorry,’’ Dorn stammered, going scarlet.

‘’Are you alright?’’ Taryn ran to his side.

‘’F-fine...’’ Dorn felt his cheeks heat even further with embarrassment as everyone looked at him. Thankfully, no one said anything.

‘’Hunters,’’ Calryn announced after a moment, rocking on his heels.

‘’Wow, you’re so perceptive,’’ Orland said sarcastically.

Diya picked up a nearby branch and tossed it at the trap. It snapped around the branch. Diya’s eyes narrowed at it coldly. These hunters were only after animals, but nonetheless, they made Diya’s skin crawl. He didn’t have a good history with hunters of any kind, ‘’we should try and get as close to Kanalei as possible before dark,’’ Aliza announced, ‘’unless you want to camp out here.’’

‘’No!’’ Taryn said quickly, rubbing her skinny arms under her cape and looking around uneasily, ‘’this place gives me the creeps.’’

‘’You should have stayed at the academy,’’ Aliza said. It was almost becoming her catch-phrase when speaking to Dorn and Taryn, ‘’there’s a reason why younger years aren’t allowed to take on expeditions,’’ then she began walking again. The others followed suit.

‘’Oh, yeah...’’ Cal mused, his colourful hair dark in the dying light, ‘’aren’t you guys going to get in trouble with the headmaster? Like...major trouble?’’

‘’I’d wager they’d get in trouble with Queen Raaisel herself,’’ Aliza snorted.

Taryn shrivelled in on herself, ‘’we won’t. We’ll be useful.’’

‘’I don’t know about that,’’ Aliza said dryly, ‘’so far all you’ve been doing is complaining and nearly falling into hunting traps.’’

Both Taryn and Dorn turned scarlet. It was Diya who rose to their defence, ‘’aw, come on, chief. Leave them be,’’ he said, pushing some of his silver waves behind his ear. His dark cheek was cut through by three rows of vicious scars, like claws, ‘’they’re trying their best. Besides, I have a feeling we’ll need all the help we can get with finding this Hilarion kid.’’

‘’I wouldn’t exactly classify those two as help,’’ Aliza cast Taryn and Dorn a look behind her shoulder. Her eyes hesitated on Dorn. She remembered her vision – the one where they all got hurt – and the voice telling her Dorn was important. Vital, somehow. She quickly cleared her throat and looked away, ‘’but they will do, I suppose.’’

They fell into a silence broken only by huffs, pants and grunts when someone tripped up over a root. After a while, Dorn gathered his courage and looked over his shoulder at Ravor. The night-fae was making a point of not looking at the little ginger disaster walking in front of him.

*~*~*

The Myaamia tribe was indeed outside, holding torches, looking angry and causing a commotion. As Crass and Jana marched up to the chief, Achak, Aria used the opportunity to sneak away. She found Arthion in the crowd, looking worriedly at the mass of Myaamia. They didn’t look too happy. As Crass and Jana ushered Achak and a few of his best fighters into their house, Aria grabbed Arthion’s arm. She glimpsed the omega fire-dancer amongst the tribesmen before she pulled Arthion away from the crowd, into the darkness near the houses. The whole town had been readying for sleep or drinking as the sun set, ‘’what is it?’’ Arthion asked, looking over her shoulder at the tribe, ‘’it’s not about the Roxtons and their plans again, is it?’’

‘’No. I mean, yes,’’ Aria gestured behind her, ‘’this is. But I’m glad I caught you – I have something to warn you about.’’

Arthion sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, ‘’gods, you can’t get any peace even if you run to the ends of the world.’’

‘’Remember Jasim Shaed?’’ Aria asked urgently, glancing around in case he was lurking about. New Vallarta was a tiny place, after all. Everyone knew everyone else, ‘’the guard who stuck to you like glue on the voyage here?’’

‘’Of course,’’ Sharian said. He suddenly looked spooked, ‘’is he kicking up trouble?’’

‘’I’m not sure,’’ Aria said, ‘’I saw him in the tavern, talking to your husband.’’

‘’Jhaan?’’ Aria wondered if she’d imagined Arthion’s golden tanned skin going ashy in the darkness, ‘’what did he want with him?’’

Aria shook her head, her silver braid flying, ‘’I honestly don’t know. I saw them from a distance when I was drinking. Jasim approached Jhaan and they talked.’’

Arthion looked worried, ‘’how did Jhaan...seem?’’

‘’Angry?’’ Aria asked, unsure, ‘’he certainly wasn’t happy and Shaed left quickly, but...’’ he glanced around again, dropping her voice, ‘’look, Arth, we’re both running from things. I don’t want him looking into me next.’’

‘’What do you want me to do?’’ Arthion hissed urgently, ‘’I can’t exactly control him!’’

‘’Don’t seem suspicious,’’ Aria said gravelly, ‘’and make sure you have a back-up plan. Something to fall back on. Something that will prevent you from leaving the safety of Khandar if he does dig up some dirt on you.’’

Arthion looked petrified for a long moment. There was a movement to their left and they turned to see Jhaan – stumbling a little – making his way towards them. Arthion’s golden eyes flicked to the Myaamia crowd, ‘’I don’t know about the safety of Khandar,’’ he murmured, ‘’but I definitely won’t let anyone drag me from here,’’ he gave Aria’s hand a quick squeeze and hurried to meet his husband.

*~*~*

‘’The expansion is _not_ what we agreed on!’’

As the argument in the Roxton’s house grew more heated, Crass called for backup. Amongst those who now stood behind him like an impenetrable wall was Dain, listening with disdain and worry to the conversation. Though Crass sounded authentic, Dain could tell he was lying as he tried to calm down Achak, ‘’I understand, I understand. Our labourers simply got confused. We will stick to our boundaries, as discussed.’’

Achak didn’t seem to be buying it completely, either. His eyes narrowed and his grip on his spear tightened, ‘’you leave Tetawken forest alone!’’ he cried. Or, he cried in Khandarian. His translator, a blue-painted Hasinai girl called Catori Moon-Daughter, said. Her tone was just as angry and raised as his – she was clearly appalled at the situation, too, ‘’we have heard of your plans to expand!’’

Crass and Jana stiffened at that. They exchanged worried looks. So far, the only people that knew of the expansion were the two of them – and, as of today, Aria. Crass quickly plastered a smile on his face, ‘’it must have been lost in translation. We are expanding _families_. Bringing more brides,’’ he said, giving Catori an encouraging nod. She translated quickly to Achak, whose brows furrowed. He said something to her, calmer now, and she spoke for him.

‘’Will you not need houses for more families?’’

‘’Of course,’’ Jana stepped in, her scarlet-painted mouth in a smile identical to her father’s, ‘’but many of the houses we already have are empty, and a large portion of the land you kindly gave us has not yet been built on. We will build our houses within the limits of the territories you gave us, as promised.’’

Catori translated. Achak, eventually, nodded and mumbled something to her gruffly. She said, eyeing the Roxtons suspiciously, ‘’you will leave the Tetawken forest alone?’’

‘’Yes,’’ Crass said, ‘’if that is what you wish.’’

Catori nodded at Achak. After a long, tense moment, Achak finally pressed his hand to his forehead and extended it out – a sign of respect, though a little forced. He and his spear swept past the Roxtons. Catori hurried but paused by the band of foreigners. She stared them all down, as if she was a one-woman army, ‘’I would advise that you stick to your promise,’’ she said, a smile quirking up her lips, ‘’you do not want to anger the ghosts that dwell in that forest. That land has run with blood – it will run with it again, if need be,’’ then she left the room, leaving Roxton’s men with chills.

Crass gritted his teeth, his smile gone, ‘’dismissed,’’ he barked at the alphas. Khalil Vult led the men out. Dain hung back closing the column. He was half-way out of the door when he heard Crass speak, ‘’someone must have heard us.’’

Automatically, Dain pressed himself against the wall in the corridor. The front doors closed behind the leaving alphas. He held his breath, ‘’impossible,’’ Jana said, ‘’we only speak of these matters here.’’

By the sound of footsteps, Dain knew Crass was pacing, ‘’it must have been that omega of yours. Your _wife_ ,’’ he spat the word angrily.

‘’Aria?...maybe. But, either way, she is on our side now. If she did happen to tell someone, she won’t again – we can trust her,’’ Jana assured.

‘’You can’t possibly know that.’’

‘’We provide her with everything,’’ Jana said, ‘’a roof over her head, beautiful clothes, food...if she goes against us, she will end up on the streets. She knows she has too much to lose.’’

‘’I hope so,’’ Crass’ voice was cold as ice, ‘’if she is not aware, _make_ her aware.’’

‘’...yes, father.’’

Dain was about to sneak out, not wanting to risk his governor’s wrath if he was found, when, suddenly, he heard Crass say, ‘’the soldiers will be arriving soon. Make the workers cease cutting down that wretched forest until then. By the time the work renews, the tribes won’t be a problem anymore.’’

Dain’s one good, green eye widened in shock at what he heard. He knew Crass had been lying to Achak’s face but not to that extent. It sounded as if he was talking about...genocide, ‘’yes, father,’’ Jana said.

Her voice was quieter this time.

As silently as he could, Dain sneaked down the dark corridor and out of the front door, closing it slowly behind him. Then, as fast as his legs would carry him, he sprinted in the direction of Banglan. The Myaamia have not gotten far. They walked in solemn silence, carrying their torches. At the head of the procession, Achak discussed something in a quiet voice with his inner circle. Dain stayed close to the trees, hidden. He spotted Demothi amongst the group. He stood out with his silver hair. Most of the Myaamia walked with their heads down but Moth skipped, looking around curiously. When he spotted Dain, he nearly walked into the person in front of him. He slowed his steps, till he was at the back of the procession, and then snuck away. He ran over to where Dain was and pulled him behind a tree, ‘’what?’’ he asked urgently.

Dain realised what he must have looked like – out of breath with his eyes filled with terror, ‘’Moth, they’re bringing in soldiers,’’ he blurted.

Moth frowned, ‘’what?’’ he asked again, confused this time.

Dain grabbed his shoulders, needing him to understand. They didn’t have much time, ‘’our governor. He lied to your chief. He is planning on bringing more soldiers and expanding the territories, just like I told you last time.’’

Moth’s eyes widened, ‘’are you sure?’’

‘’I just heard him say it.’’

‘’I must tell Achak.’’

Dain nodded, ‘’tell him to wait. There is no point in turning back and trying to fight Crass Roxton tonight again. He will just deny it. I will tell you when the first ship of soldiers arrives. I will...’’ he hesitated, knowing that he was de-facto promising to sell out his own people, ‘’I will tell you anything I hear.’’

Moth nodded again, slower this time, ‘’why did you tell me this?’’ he asked quietly.

‘’I...’’ Dain searched for a reason. Because Moth was his mate, because he didn’t want to see people killed, because he didn’t want war? ‘’I don’t know,’’ he said finally. He glanced down the path. The Myaamia were getting further away.

Suddenly, Moth’s hands were at Dain’s elbows, gripping them urgently, ‘’I can trust you, right?’’ his eyes were searching. The feather in his hair fluttered in a gentle evening breeze.

‘’Yes,’’ that, Dain knew for sure.

A small smile appeared on Moth’s lips a moment before he stood on his tiptoes. Dain’s good eye widened as Moth pressed his lips to his in a lingering peck, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Before Dain even realise what had happened, his mate was gone, running after his tribe as fast as a spreading wildfire.

*~*~*

_Make sure you have a back-up plan..._

_Something to fall back on..._

_Something that will prevent you from leaving the safety of Khandar if he does dig up some dirt on you..._

Sharian bit the pad of his thumb nervously. It was the only thing keeping him from pacing. The whole affair with the Myaamia tribe had pulled Jhaan out of the tavern earlier than usual and, for the first time since their wedding, Jhaan was home as evening fell. He’d been tipsy when he’d stumbled to Sharian outside and got him home, muttering something about it being dangerous outside. Now he sat on a stool in the shabby bedroom upstairs in front of a bowl of warm water. His shirt was off and he was just in his undergarments as he washed with a wet rag. He usually went to the river alongside the other workers at noon for their daily wash, when they took a break from cutting down trees. When he was drunk, Jhaan thankfully didn’t trust himself enough to go to a river and risk drowning. Sharian watched him wash as Aria’ warning played over and over in his head. He needed a guarantee. He needed something that would keep him here if people came chasing him from Kainan or if stupid Jasim Shaed managed to find out the truth. Marriage was as good a guarantee as anything – a child was even better. But their marriage had not been consummated yet and so there wasn’t a chance of a child. Right then, Sharian was still a bride. He was not yet married to Jhaan, not fully – and if anyone who came for him discovered that, there would be nothing stopping them from dragging him to the dungeons of the Fade mansion.

Unable to take it anymore, Sharian stepped towards Jhaan. Now was a rare chance. Jhaan was nearly sober. That might not happen again for a few weeks. Slowly, Sharian walked over to his husband. His skin was tan and smooth, with a few white scar lines here and there. The dawny hair at his nape was curling a little from where he’d ran a wet cloth through it. The muscles of his back and shoulders were well pronounced. Sharian pressed his hand to his warm back and felt his husband stiffen under his touch, not expecting it. Sharian was not versed in the language of lovers – but he was a good liar. He remembered the way Arthion had spoken – the kindness in his words, the love, when he addressed people; whether they were servants, his family, or Sharian. Sharian tried to channel that as he brushed his thumb against the nape of Jhaan’s neck. It was a little reddened from a day working in the searing sun, ‘’it’s good to have you home early for once,’’ Sharian murmured. Jhaan glanced over his shoulder, confusion shining in his dark eyes. Then he grunted and dunked his cloth in the basin again. Sharian nimbly snatched the cloth out of his hand, ‘’let me,’’ he said, as sweetly as he could, as he brushed it over Jhaan’s shoulder.

Without turning, his husband grumbled, ‘’I can do it myself,’’ he sounded almost angry but when Sharian looked down at him, his ears were bright red. Sharian’s nerves spiked. He’d never done this before but even so, he had to do it well. Whether he like it or not the broken, drunken husband sitting on a stool at his feet was his main protector. He carefully washed Jhaan’s back and shoulders and, eventually, the alpha relaxed. When Sharian was done, he didn’t know how to initiate contact further. He dropped the cloth in the bowl and, as Jhaan rose, Sharian could only watch him. Jhaan went to the window, to push open the wooden shutters. There was an old fisherman’s net hung out there to keep out night bugs and the slight change in the air was a welcome relief. Sharian had no idea how a place could be as stuffy and at the same time as liberating as Khandar was.

 _Get a grip. Now’s your chance. Make yourself his so no one can take you from here,_ Sharian prompted himself urgently a Jhaan leaned his muscled forearms on the windowsill and sighed at the night. He seemed almost completely sober now.

Sharian went to the bed and lay down on it, on top of the thin covers, folding his hands on his stomach. Then, nervously, he decided on setting them at his sides instead. He tried to look as inviting and pliant as he could but even though he’d known this would happen eventually, he was as awkward and nervous as anyone would be for their first time. When Jhaan turned around and saw his husband on the bed, waiting for him, his expression was unreadable, ‘’what are you doing?’’ he asked quietly.

Sharian sat up a little, feeling self conscious. He didn’t know how to do this, exactly. He could lie and manipulate his way through life but this...this was outside of his comfort zone. Still, his safety depended on how deeply rooted into Khandar he was when – _if_ – the Fades came after him. His safety, right then, depended solely on Jhaan. So he gritted his teeth, told himself to get on with it and extended his hand out to Jhaan, ‘’we still haven’t consummated our marriage,’’ he said softly, ‘’I came here for my husband, but I don’t have one yet.’’

For a moment, Jhaan looked torn. Then he walked over, very slowly, and took Sharian’s hand. He held it loosely between his fingers, studying his bride. There was concern and apprehension in his eyes – he clearly needed a push. Sharian gave him a tug instead. He pulled on his hand and Jhaan finally – _finally_ – got on the bed, ‘’I suppose it’s about time,’’ he grumbled. He seemed just as embarrassed as Sharian and the beta reminded himself that, for the last three years, Jhaan hadn’t been with anyone. Fear, something Sharian hadn’t felt often until running away from Kainan, slithered into his heart. What if...Sharian licked his lips nervously. What if Jhaan was so starved he’d be like a wild beast in bed? Jhaan had heard talk. Even Aria had said that Jana Roxton had ravished her once she was coaxed into bed. Would Jhaan be the same? Sharian braced himself for it.

Jhaan’s face was impassive, hostile even, as he reached out and with rough, calloused fingers undid the strings of Sharian’s tunic. His movements were quick and precise. Not impatient, not yet...Sharian took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. He’d endure it. He’d endure anything in the name of safety. He’d tasted the life of a runaway and it wasn’t for him. The stress of it would make his heart burst sooner or later...but then again that’s what he got for being a fake. A liar.

Sharian’s tunic came off, then his pants, then his undergarments. Before long, Jhaan pushed him down onto the bed and crawled on top of him – but he did not jump into the act. Instead, with a light frown between his sandy-blond eyebrows, he traced his rough fingers over Sharian’s body. It wasn’t a lover’s touch – it was that of an inspector. He touched the light muscles on his stomach that Sharian got from years of doing garden work and running errands for the kitchen. He touched the scar on his side he got when he was a kid, when he got ran over by an ox cart and nearly died. He brushed his thumb against the faint burn mark below Sharian’s collarbone from his first employer, who had been quick with his hands when you did something wrong. Tanned from the Khandarian sun, Sharian’s past was now all too visible on his skin. His breath caught ever so slightly as he realised his mistake, but he couldn’t exactly hide his naked body from his husband.

He could only distract him from it.

Sharian grasped Jhaan’s face, maybe a little too roughly, and yanked him down. His jaw-line was rough with unseen stubble – his mouth even more so against Sharian’s, his piercing a cold press against Sharian’s bottom lip. His tongue, when Sharian boldly slid his into the alpha’s mouth, tasted like ale. Before Jhaan could protest or break the sudden kiss, Sharian reached between them and cupped his front. Unsurprisingly, he wasn’t aroused. Sharian palmed him through his undergarments and, finally, with a soft, vaguely annoyed sigh Jhaan settled into him. He took control of the kiss, deepening it and Sharian felt relief flood his body. His plan seemed to be working. With quick fingers, he got rid of his husband’s undergarments and took him in his hand for the first time. He was surprisingly heavy and as Sharian worked his fingers quickly, his length only grew heavier.

The dark-haired boy inhaled sharply when, suddenly, Jhaan grabbed his legs and spread them apart. His fingers found his entrance all too easily, sliding inside him. Sharian whimpered against Jhaan’s mouth and Jhaan pulled away, ‘’am I hurting you?’’ he grunted.

There was some pain, but not enough to make Sharian stop. He shook his head, his breath coming out ragged and uneven. With the kiss broken, Jhaan’s eyes returned to his body but this time, they seemed much more appreciative. Sharian felt suddenly embarrassed. He wanted to grab the covers and hide himself, but he reminded himself that this was normal now. Jhaan looking at him like that. Holding him like that. If nothing happened and Sharian was forgotten and no one came after him, this would be the outcome. This was the best Sharian could hope for – a quiet life here, filled with simple work during the day and Jhaan at night. Drunk Jhaan. Jhaan, with rough hands and a handsome, cold face. This...this was what Sharian was fighting for. It was better than work camps or prison or death, but...but it wasn’t _good_. In a different life, Sharian would have never chosen this. People that came here came to forgot, to start anew without really hoping for much more than to live quietly and die quietly, forgotten by all. He was one of those people, now, and so this was his life and he’d have to get used to it now...

Without really meaning to, Sharian started trembling, overcome by emotion that seemed to grasp his heart in a fist.

Jhaan didn’t notice, at first. He prepared him swiftly and positioned himself at his entrance. The first push of him inside Sharian was just a numb heat and Sharian bit his lip, wincing when a moment later the heat turned into a burn. He wasn’t sure if he liked this. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to like it. But he knew he had to make Jhaan believe he was a devoted husband, so he opened his mouth to moan. Instead, he whimpered. Jhaan, buried in him to the hilt, had been concentrated on the sudden pleasure of finally taking his husband but the whimper broke him out of it. His rough fingers touched Sharian’s face. Sharian hadn’t realised he’d closed his eyes until he opened them again and met Jhaan’s brown, concerned ones, ‘’you’re shaking,’’ Jhaan murmured, ‘’are you scared?’’

Of course he was scared. He couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t been, ‘’just...’’ Sharian’s voice came out choked, needy, but he didn’t care, not in that moment. He reached out desperately, wrapping his arms around Jhaan’s back, his hands curling lightly against his warm skin, ‘’hold me...’’

Sharian wondered if he’d imagined Jhaan’s eyes softening, just for a second, before he closed the gap between them and kissed him again. When he began thrusting, it was not the maddened movements of an animal in heat but the careful, slow movements of a man taking his lover for the first time. Despite his fear and anxiousness and hopelessness, Sharian found himself forgetting everything for a moment. He sank into the mattress, his body relaxing as Jhaan made love to him. When he came, his body tensed back up for a second and Sharian cried out, his head falling back against the pillow. If his mind hadn’t been so blank post-orgasm he would have said a quick prayer to the gods when he felt Jhaan finish in him. A husband was a good way of making sure no one could snatch him from Khandar – a child was even better.

Sharian was still catching his breath when Jhaan rose from the bed, grabbed his underwear and disappeared down the rickety wooden stairs. He returned a moment later with a wooden cup. He drank a healthy gulp of water and passed the rest to Sharian, who took it gratefully, sitting up. As he drank, Jhaan went to one of the old wooden chests in the corner holding his belongings. He dug around, the room filled with sounds of soft clattering, ‘’I didn’t really want a bride,’’ he spoke, surprising Sharian. It had felt like Jhaan had gone back into his shell as soon as he left the bed. His back was to his husband as he looked through the chest, ‘’but all of the first settlers were getting one and I was advised to pay for one, too. I had savings from the past three years. If not on a bride, I would have just spent it all on drink. I wasn’t...excited to hear I was getting a bride. But, I knew we’d be family. The only family I could hope for here, I suppose,’’ he rose, a long-ish brown cloth in his hand. He went to the bed and sat by Sharian, who gently set his cup on the floor, looking at Jhaan in shock as he extended the cloth to him, ‘’I figured I ought to get my bride a gift. Sorry I didn’t give it to you sooner.’’

Sharian took the cloth, stunned, and unfolded it. He gasped, his golden eyes widening, at the beautiful shawl. It was pale brown, made from the soft, delicate hide of some animal Sharian did not know. It had been dyed blue in places, creating patterns like flowers blossoming over the shawl. The ends were fringed, each three strands braided together and tipped with blue beads that clattered against each other softly, ‘’it’s beautiful,’’ he breathed.

‘’I traded with the Hasinai tribe for it,’’ Jhaan supplied, rubbing the back of his neck. He seemed...embarrassed, ‘’it’s not much, but...’’

Sharian clutched the shawl in his hands. Jhaan – coarse, one-track-minded Jhaan – had gone and traded with natives to get his bride something pretty before he even knew who’d he be married to. He had his faults – lots of them, really – but, this...Sharian blinked quickly. It was just a stupid shawl but, somehow, it gave him hope that maybe his life would not just be a miserable, grey existence here in a miserable, grey town. Or, rather, it made him realise that living simply and peacefully and with Jhaan might not be so...

He raised his head and smiled, ‘’thank you,’’ he whispered, ‘’I’ll cherish it.’’

He wondered if, again, he’d imagined Jhaan looking a little pleased before he went to lie down on his side of the bed.

*~*~*

The Arhanese ship was called _a’ghealach_ – _the Moonkiller_ – and it prowled through the frozen shores of Arnheim like a wild beast. Before long, the ship was out at the freezing sea. The steely clouds above gathered, coiling around like great grey snakes in the sky. On deck, the crew fretted, but belong deck, with Arnheim nothing but a sliver in the distance, Faelan sat in his cabin and thought.

His thinking was interrupted by his husband-to-be.

Thorn burst into Fae’s cabin like a storm of his own and he was _fuming_. He slammed the doors shut behind him so hard the creaked in their hinges, ‘’why!?’’ he demanded, his Hyndestane blue eyes shooting sparks, ‘’why did you call the wedding back on!? After all the trouble we went through!’’

Faelan rose from his bed and put his back to Thorn, busying himself with looking through his chest of clothes. He really, _really_ didn’t have the energy to face his fiancé right then, ‘don’t be a child. This is what had to happen.’’

‘’What _had_ to happen!?’’ suddenly Thorn was there, grabbing Fae’s forearm and whirling him round. They were so close their noses nearly touched until Fae took a sharp step back. Even then, Thorn didn’t let go of his arm, ‘’the last time I checked, we were on the same page on this! You even found the whore, I-‘’

‘’Don’t be so stupid!’’ Fae barked, ripping his arm out of his grip, ‘’I’m just doing my duty to my kingdom – you would do well to remember yours!’’

‘’I don’t want to be married to someone who doesn’t want me!’’ Thorn burst out. His voice cracked.

It pissed Faelan off. Because _he_ wanted to yell and scream and rant and rave and get angry and punch things and fight but throwing a tantrum was weak, and Faelan wasn’t weak, and he hated that even though Thorn wasn’t either, he could act like it – he could _feel_ weak, he could allow himself to-

Fae inhaled sharply through his nose, steeling himself. He clenched his hands so tightly his nails dug into his palm, but he did not flinch, ‘’tough,’’ he said, his voice ice as he glared dagger at Thorn. He matched his fire with his own icy resolve, ‘’that is how it will be. That is what we must do for our people.’’

For a second, Thorn looked hurt. Really, really hurt. Like he’d expected Fae to deny not wanting him. But then, just as quickly, his features went blank and his posture straightened, ‘’fine,’’ he said. His voice was stone.

And just then, the ship lurched.

There was a crack of lightning, the rumble of storm; the voices on deck grew panicked, then turned to shrieking. The ship lurched again. There was the slosh of water. Another flash of lightning. Thorn and Faelan exchanged horrified looks.

And then _the Moonkiller_ was enveloped by the storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! If you like my style of writing and want to read some more BL short stories - or even request some - then check out my page! You can read the next five chapters of 013: Hawthorne and over 30 short stories and the new chapters coming out in the following week all for just $1! It would mean the world if you guys could support me! <3 Read below for the latest short stories the page offers!
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> TAGS: adventure, slow burn, language barrier, romance, sweet, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, comedy
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> Dangerous Elysium: a devil King and a succubus Queen have a baby together - a living proof of their infidelity. Afraid of what their partners will do when they find out, they toss the child into the human world. Except with each day, the child grows stronger...the King and Queen charge a demon assassin and an incubi assassin to get rid of their little problem before the child turns eighteen. Except the incubi is a fabulous hoe with a soft spot for the baby and the demon is a short-tempered asshole who won't let anyone harm the kid. With a hotel full of strange employees and a group of fellow assassins hounding their asses, this could pose a problem...
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> I'm Turning Forty Tomorrow: Harvey is on his lads holiday in Greece. Every afternoon he wakes up with a killer hangover and ever night he blacks out, only to wake up in his hotel room again. He is disoriented and can't seem to ever remember anything from the night before. He knows only three things - there's a half-full bottle of vodka in the fridge, there's only three days of his lads holiday left...and there's someone he's desperately missing, but can't seem to remember.
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> TAGS: mystery, romance, angst, tragedy, psychological thriller-esque, plot twists, will make you cry
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> The Lost City of Skana: an alpha prince's expedition finally find the lost city of omegas after nearly 100 years. But the omegas have evolved into beautiful, warrior dragon riders and for the first time, its the alphas who must prove themselves worthy of the omegas.
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> Nike: to avoid her weakling, newborn son being killed by the Spartan council, Nike's mother disguises and raises him as a girl. Nike grows up to be the most beautiful 'woman' around but with his deadly secret, he never even considers marriage. Until, one day, the renowed Spartan warrior Acaius arrives for the summer games - and instantly falls in love with Nike. When Acaius proposes and Nike's step-father accepts, Nike's secret is threatened to be exposed to all of Greece. 
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> TAGS: multi-pairing, polyamory, foursome, threesome, pack couples, omegaverse, alpha x omega, heats, gangs, action, thriller, romance, slow-burn 
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	6. Moonkiller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She posts! After nearly two months!  
> I'm really sorry guys - I'm hella busy with my patr-you-know-what; if you're eager to read some of my shorter stories, check out the end notes! 
> 
> Also, thank you to all who support this story - you guys mean the world to me!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PREVIOUSLY ON BLOODLINE 
> 
> In ELISEN’S TOWER, Elisen and Vaeril’s relationship changes drastically when they kiss for the first time.  
> Near the BORDER OF KOLN, Aliza and her team of witches decide to travel to the Moher Mountain bandits, hoping they will have information on what happened to Hilarion, the boy they are looking for – or will at least be able to tell them what is going on in occupied Solin. 
> 
> In the MOHER MOUNTAINS, Nym and Azariah’s physical relationship develops as they climb the mountain, but Aza is still as much of a secret as ever. 
> 
> In ARNHEIM, Thorn and Faelan leave the shores of Arnheim and set out back to Hailbronn, Kainan to be married. Just off the shores of Arnheim, their ship is caught in a storm. 
> 
> In KHANDAR, the Myaamia tribe demand that Governor Crass Roxton and the settlers stay within their agreed territories and not expand. Crass Roxton promises that he was always going to stay within bounds but Dain overhears him talking about soldiers arriving to help them take over Khandar. He tells Moth, who hurries to tell his tribe. Meanwhile, Jasim Shaed, an ex-guard charged with taking care of Arthion Fade on the voyage, warns Jhaan that Sharian is not who he says he is. Sharian seduces Jhaan to secure his place in Khandar. At the same time Sharian’s friend, Aria, is brought into the Roxton’s plans to take over all of Khandar...

_A’ghealach_ was sucked into a storm like a helpless little leaf on a rushing river.

Thorn and Faelan flew onto the deck just as a powerful wave sloshed over it, penetrating the wooden deck-boards and everyone standing on them, ‘’Seabright save us,’’ Thorn breathed.

‘’Your gods aren’t going to help us now,’’ Faelan jogged across the wet deck of the Moonkiller , to the mast. It had to be rolled up or it would break. From below deck emerged Aira and Saromír, Fae’s cousins. Above, heavy clouds looked like the underbelly of some great beast. Lightning flashed like its fiery veins. Fae gripped the rope and rolled up the mast. Another wave hit, so powerful a few sailors were thrown overboard with a screech. Fae winced as the water hit his ribs, hard enough to bruise. The waves were merciless and the only reason why he wasn’t washed away was because he’d wound the mast’s rope around his forearm.

‘’Man overboard!’’ the sailors yelled, ‘’port side!’’

Fae’s eyed widened as suddenly Thorn shot into his line of vision, as nimble on the deck as if it wasn’t sopping wet. The ship lurched, barrels of water and wine rolling across the deck but that didn’t stop Thorn. He jumped over them neatly and ran to the side of the ship. A few of the sailors that had been tossed aside were yelling for help, gripping onto the nets that hung off the side of the ship. The water beat at them like a whip, ‘’hold on!’’ Thorn called, grabbing the rope ladder and throwing it down to them.

‘’Thorn!’’ Fae yelled. Anxiety spiked in him. If Thorn fell over, Fae would have no choice but to go rescue him, and he didn’t really feel like dying at sea.

Thorn whipped round at the sound of Fae’s voice. His brown skin and black hair were wet. His Hyndestane blue eyes widened as he saw Fae, ‘’Faelan, get away from there-!’’

It happened in a flash – literally.

With a sound like an avalanche, lightning hit the mast. It was instantly on fire. Thorn pushed past frantic soldiers, running to where Fae now lay on the ground. The rope he’d been holding onto had been severed by the blast. Half of it was still wrapped around his arm, trailing miserably to a singed end, ‘’Faelan! Fae!’’ Thorn yelled desperately, shaking his shoulders. He checked his pulse. It was there. Fae had only been knocked unconscious – thankfully. Thorn hooked an arm under his legs, put the other one around his back, ready to lift him...

And realised they were both dead men as he looked up.

A waved, nearly as tall as the ship, rushed towards them. Thorn only had time to press Fae close to him and grip him for dear life before it slammed into the ship. Every sailor on deck seemed to scream in unison. And then their screams cut off as the wave enveloped them. The Moonkiller creaked and flipped. Its side hit the sea heavily, the mast spearing through the water, the fire put out. Barrels, trunks and gear tumbled from the sideways deck into the sea. Everyone who had been on deck was now in the water.

Thorn’s head broke the surface and he coughed salty water out of his lungs. When the water had hit, he’d only had one thought – keep a grip on Fae. Now he pulled the young prince out of the water and against him, resting his head against his own shoulder. Fae’s limp, pale brown hair fell across his face. He was white as a sheet, breathing shallowly, still unconscious, ‘’shit,’’ Thorn swore under his breath. He looked around for something that could help. It was hard to spot anything – he was constantly raised on the crests of stormy waves. He saw survivors kicking desperately towards floating pieces of wood. Some clung onto the side of the Moonkiller, which was beginning to sink. Thorn glimpsed Aira’s golden braid as she yanked someone – her brother Saromír, likely – out of the water by his shirt and onto a floating chest.

Thorn was too distracted to notice another powerful wave until it crashed into him, ‘’no-!’’ the rest of his cry was cut off as Fae’s unconscious body was ripped from his arms. Thorn felt himself tumble through the water. He tried to open his eyes but everything was dark as the ninth pit of hell and his eyes stung. He couldn’t tell which way was up and down. Finally, the merciful sea pushed him back up to the surface. He cougher and spluttered, looking around. He’d been thrown further away from the ship and the survivors. He kicked his legs, trying desperately to stay on the surface as he looked around frantically. Faelan was a few paced away from him, floating face-down in the water. Thorn kicked his way over to him and picked him back up, ‘’stay with me!’’ he called over the rumble of the storm. He remembered the rope Fae had tied around his arm. He grabbed it and un-wound it. As quickly as he could, he transferred Fae onto his back, resting the prince’s head on his shoulder. He threw the rope around them twice, tying it in a secure knot, so that they were tied together. The sea wasn’t going to separate them again. Thorn wasn’t letting Fae drown.

With his arms now free, Thorn swam with all his might towards the ship but progress seemed impossible to make. Each time, the waves pushed him back to where he started. Finally, exhausted and half-conscious, he spotted a plank of drifting wood. With the last of his strength, he swam over to it and grabbed it. He lay on it, breathing hard, Fae a dead weight against his back. Thorn didn’t want to give up, but no matter how much he tried, his eyes wouldn’t stay open.

Clinging to the plank, he lost consciousness.

*~*~*

Nerideth pushed past the curious crowd, shouldering her way past the people of Solin Underground to get to the front. The city square was packed. Something that happened rarely was at play – there were new arrivals. Antorn Morrigen’s two sons were holding tightly onto a girl that could only be described as red . Her fiery hair was plaited in a million tiny braids. She wore a red tunic and a red cape – and, on top of that, a red-raging expression on her face. Morrigen’s sons were clearly having some trouble keeping her under control. With them was a strange looking boy. His eyes were freakishly big, like an owl’s, and outline with blue shimmering powder. His brown hair had a braid running through it and his blue shirt cut off below his chest, exposing his slim stomach , ‘’people of Solin Underground,’’ Morrigen called as the red girl was forced to her knees. She snarled at the men holding her down, ‘’on this day, two traitors proclaimed their disloyalty to our good King Fengor. He is merciful! He has spared their lives and sent them here as punishment instead, to live with those of you who have refused to bow down to your rightful King,’’ Ride nearly vomited, hearing his words. It was hard to believe that he’d ever been a good citizen of Solin, loyal to House Eiris, ‘’I would advise all of you to stay away from these two troublemakers – continue to live your lives here in obedient peace. And if you see the traitor Othelen, bring him to me!’’ With that, he nodded at his sons and turned to go. They shoved the red girl forward, so she had to catch herself on her hands, and hurried after their father. The crowd, curious but weary, quickly dispersed. Nerideth pushed her way past the receding people, to the red girl, whom the big-eyed boy was trying to help stand up. She shoved him away, standing on her own.

Ride looked around cautiously. She was the princess and Antorn Morrigen always seemed to have an eye on her. She grabbed the girl’s hand, ‘’come,’’ she said to her and the surprised boy, ‘’this is no place to talk,’’ she pulled them through the alleyways of nobility street to the larger, darker common street.

After a few fumbling, surprised steps, Ride felt the girl take her hand properly, ‘’you’re the princess, aren’t you?’’ she said, astounded.

‘’Quiet,’’ Ride said, hurrying to one of the two brothels. It served as a tavern, of sorts, during the day. A few boys and girls who were not on the council and had no other means of making money, walked around, flaunting their bodies and pretty faces. Ride brought the two newcomers to the end of the brothel, to a shaded booth, ‘’who are you?’’ she asked, as soon as they sat down.

‘’I’m Venali Dairmuid,’’ the red haired girl said.

Ride frowned, ‘’Dairmuid?’’ the noble house of Dairmuid had always been loyal to Kai royals and they served bravely, ‘’the last Dairmuid was Kali Dairmuid, and she perished in the Witchhunter wars.’’

‘’My mother,’’ Venali said, ‘’I was only a babe when she went to war. Nobody knew about me because I was a bastard.’’

Ride glanced at her red hair – all Dairmuids were red-heads, ‘’I see,’’ Ride said, a little astounded.

‘’Oh, but she goes by Venali Kilyn, to avoid suspicion. That’s her father’s name,’’ the owl-eyed boy piped up.

Ride’s double coloured eyes – one pale blue, one brown – slid to him, ‘’and you are...?’’

‘’Oh, I’m just a simple whore,’’ the boy shrugged, ‘’nothing as fancy as Ven. My name is Zeno.’’

‘’What about your family name?’’ Ride asked.

‘’Does it matter?’’ Zeno shrugged again, giving Venali a cheeky grin, ‘’we have a Dairmuid here, that’s as fancy as it gets.’’

Venali rolled her blue-green eyes, ‘’fuck off, Owl.’’ Zeno giggled, the silver earrings at his ears swinging. Venali turned her intense gaze on Ride, ‘’well? Are you the princess or not?’’

‘’I am,’’ Ride confirmed, ‘’Nerideth Eiris.’’

Venali beamed. She was pretty when she smiled, ‘’I told you we’d find her,’’ she told Zeno.

Zeno looked offended, ‘’did I say we _wouldn’t_ find her?’’

‘’Find me?’’ Ride frowned.

‘’One of Zeno’s customers was a soldier,’’ Venali explained quickly, ‘’he came with his whole garrison and he overheard them talking.’’

‘’We found out about this city,’’ Zeno said excitedly, ‘’we just _knew_ the royal family wasn’t dead. Many people in Solin and all over Kainan think the same, but King Fengor scares them too much for them to do anything.’’

‘’Sometimes,’’ Ven leaned over the table, dropping her voice, ‘’there would be people who spoke out against the King. They’d go missing within a day.’’

Ride nodded, ‘’we get newcomers once in a while. We are told that they are traitors.’’

‘’That’s why we figured if we acted up, they’d bring us to wherever you and the royal family was,’’ Venali continued, her voice growing a little excited, ‘’and here you are!’’

‘’But...why would you want to come here?’’ Ride frowned. Solin Underground was a prison. There was no way out unless you were willing to dig.

Venali grew serious, ‘’the people of Solin are starving. Harvests are bad. They live in constant fear. The whole kingdom is covered in terror. No one dares to speak too loudly – Fengor has eyes everywhere.’’

‘’Even here,’’ Ride agreed, remembering Antorn Morrigen.

Venali nodded, ‘’it’s no place to live. Here and there is a prison.’’

‘’But we can fight it,’’ Zeno said suddenly, ‘’with you.’’

Venali’s eyes seemed to burn straight through Ride, ‘’there was a witch named Pendragon that came through our town. She must have been scouting for Queen Raaisel of the Witchlands. She told us about you.’’

Ride frowned, ‘’there was no witch named Pendragon here.’’

‘’Maybe there was. She did this funny thing where she just,’’ Zeno flicked his hand through the air, ‘’and disappeared. Like she could travel between places. Maybe she came here, too.’’

‘’Either way, she told us that Prince Jasper’s eldest daughter was here and that she would help us liberate Solin.’’

Ride blinked, overwhelmed, ‘’liberate Solin?’’ she hadn’t thought that far. All her plans had always been about one thing – seeing the sky for the first time. She hadn’t thought about what Solin was like on the flip side or what she would do about King Fengor. Now that she thought about it, she realised how stupid she had been. What did it matter if they dug their way to the surface, if Fengor could just stick them in another underground city?

‘’With you and the royal family at our side, we will rally the people and overthrow Fengor,’’ Venali said heatedly.

‘’For now I hope you have a way of just getting us out of here,’’ Zeno added, looking pointedly at the ceiling.

Ride leaned in, like Venali had, and said quietly, ‘’are you familiar with the Wall and the rebel tunnel that ran under the City of Amaranthe?...’’

*~*~*

‘’Thirty gold coins!?’’ Aliza exclaimed, slamming her hands on the wooden bar inside the horse inn near Kanalei, ‘’are you _insane_!?’’

‘’Listen, girly,’’ the no-nonsense innkeeper glared at her over the bar, ‘’I’m givin’ you a bargain here. Take it or leave it. Thirty gold coins for four horses. Final offer.’’

Aliza whipped around, her ginger hair flying, to look at her team standing mutely behind her, then back to the innkeeper. He was at least twice her size but their postures were the same and they exuded the same amount of determination, ‘’come on, old man. This inn is in the middle of nowhere! We’re probably the only customers you’ll get till winter!’’

The innkeeper’s eyes darkened. Diya quickly stepped in, throwing an arm over Aliza’s shoulders, ‘’forgive her, she just has a terrible personality. I’m sure we’ll have thirty coins between us,’’ he said with a charming grin. Maybe it was the promise of money, or maybe it was because Diya was an omega, but the innkeeper settled with a grunt. Diya leaned in close, whispering to Aliza, ‘’and remember that you still have to pay me at the end of this all, dear~’’

Aliza cut his a dirty look, ‘’couldn’t you have come _with_ a horse.’’

Diya just laughed and turned to the rest of the team, holding out a brown, scarred hand, ‘’come on, turn out your pockets, you bunch of misers.’’

There was some unhappy grumbling from Ravor and Orland. Calryn dug around in his pocket and produced a handful of tiny, multi-coloured mushrooms. He fished between them for coins. Diya waited patiently till his hand was full, tossed in a few coins from himself and slapped the amount in front of the innkeeper. Ten minutes later they were outside in the evening breeze, saddling their horses, ‘’we’re going to have to double up,’’ Orland said.

‘’I’m riding alone,’’ Diya said. He’d saddled his horse the fastest and now he jumped up neatly onto it.

‘’Says who?’’ Aliza challenged.

Diya shrugged, ‘’says me. I’m the scout.’’

‘’Who died and made you scout?’’ Cal protested.

Diya just winked at him and went trotting off on his horse in the direction of Kanalei. Aliza sighed, ‘’right. Youngsters, double up with me and Ravor. Orland, make sure Cal doesn’t fall off.’’

‘’I’m only two years younger,’’ Taryn grumbled under her nose.

Aliza grabbed her face unexpectedly, squishing her cheeks till her lips puckered, ‘’what was that, Halfling?’’

Taryn just gave her an unamused glare. At the start of the journey she’d been scared and weary but now, after days of dull walking through forests and the countryside, she’d gained confidence to at least try and stand up to Liz. When they’d finally agreed to find somewhere to buy horses, she’d been beside herself. When she didn’t reply to Aliza’s jab, the witch smirked, satisfied, and lifted her up onto the horse. Taryn yelped, grabbing onto Liz’s shoulder. A second later the half-fae was up on the saddle, brushing her silvery-white hair out of her eyes as Aliza jumped up on the horse too.

That left Dorn with Ravor.

Slowly, terrified, the ginger turned towards Ravor, who didn’t look too happy, ‘’don’t touch my wings,’’ he grunted, jumping up onto the fourth horse.

‘’Stop touching me!’’ Orland snapped from the other horse. He was holding the reins and Cal was folded over him, arms tightly around his waist and head on his shoulder.

‘’I’m tired,’’ the purple hair witch whined.

‘’I don’t care!’’

Dorn pulled his attention away from him, touching the horse’s side uncertainly. He’d only ridden one a handful of times and he didn’t even know how to get on one. The others made it look so easy but close up, the horse was massive. Dorn looked up uncertainly at Ravor from under his spectacles, ‘’u-um...Ravor?’’

Ravor looked down at him. Realising he couldn’t get up, the fae sighed and extended up his arm. Dorn was shocked at his strength as he swung Dorn up and behind him on the saddle. Dorn flushed at suddenly being so close to the older boy but Ravor didn’t notice, turning back to grab the reins. Dorn uncertainly put his hands on the sides of Ravor’s hips, as lightly as he could. He was scared that if he touched Ravor too much, the fae witch would cut off his fingers. He inhaled nervously and realised that Ravor smelled good. Even after a few days of only bathing quickly in streams and rivers, his scent made Dorn want to close his eyes and rest his cheek against his warm back. Dorn remembered Ravor’s wings. They were tucked up neatly under his cape, but Dorn could see a few dark feathers sticking out, rustled by the wind.

Diya came riding back into the clearing before the lonesome inn, ‘’come on. I’ve found a path,’’ he called.

Ravor flicked the reins and the horse shot forward, far faster than it should have. Dorn screamed and threw his arms properly around Ravor’s waist, pressing against him. He was warm.

‘’Hey, there...’’ Ravor clicked his tongue a few times, pulling the horse’s reins. The horse slowed and then eventually broke off into a trot. Ravor patted its thick neck, ‘’good girl. There. Nothing to be spooked about,’’ he said, his voice low and gentle and warm. It was the first time Dorn had heard Ravor sound like that.

He didn’t feel like letting go of him, and so he clung to him for the rest of the ride.

*~*~*

Elisen stood in the middle of his bedroom, looking around it, dissatisfied. Since Vaeril’s last visit, Elisen could only think about that kiss. The way it felt, the way it _made_ him feel...Vae hadn’t been back for a few days and in those days, Eli gathered the courage to ask him some things. But now, looking at his bedroom, it really didn’t look like the right place to do it in. The window let in a lot of light. Greyish, dull autumn light, granted, but it was still bright. One corner of the room was messy, the desk covered in books Eli had been studying. There were more books on shelves on the walls and chests of magical appliances Eli used to practice potions and spells with. The bed stood in the middle of the room, right in the ray of light from the window. One of the walls was filled with drawings he did when he was younger – too little to learn proper magic. It was the room of a student, a child, not the man he’d grown into.

Sighing, Elisen walked into the narrow corridor, tugging on the strings of his navy tunic. His bare feet padded against the carpeted stone floors as he walked past the bathing chamber and went into the kitchen. It was tiny and cluttered with drying herbs, baskets of food, dishes...Eli sighed again and hesitated in Vae’s room. He barely ever went in here. Vaeril rarely stayed overnight. He’d always been there to make sure Eli was safe when he’d been a child but when Eli started growing up, Vae left him alone for days on end. He was out there somewhere, fighting monsters in plague-destroyed Rhein. Unsurely, Elisen pushed open the doors to Vaeril’s room. He was disappointed to find it mostly stripped bare. A neatly made bed with white sheets and a single pillow. An empty dresser. A trunk with neatly folded clothes inside...

Elisen went back to his room.

He carefully too down his drawings and stuck them in one of the old tomes about ancient magics. Then he stood at the foot of the bed and inspected it. The things he wanted to do with Vae, things he barely knew about, he wanted to do here. Just thinking about it made Eli all tingly and excited. His hands pricked and without thinking, he raised them. He felt his power flow out of him. The simple stone wall cracked a little as vines snaked from the stone and up the wall, over the ceiling. Flower buds erupted and bloomed. Leaves twisted together. In seconds, there was a gorgeous canopy of flowers above the bed, giving it shade and intimacy. Elisen grinned, looking down at his hands. He’d never attempted to do anything so pretty, but he’d succeeded so easily. He wondered how much power hid under his skin.

‘’Elisen!’’ came a call from below and Eli jumped. His nerves instantly rose up as he hurried to open the doors for Vae. Even though he’d been thinking about all this for the last few days, having it actually happen...he pulled the lever and the tower clanked, the various doors and stairwells opening up for Vaeril to come upstairs. The young witch held his breath, waiting for Vaeril to appear. When he finally did, Eli gave him a small, giddy smile. The dark-haired witch swept into the room, going to take off his cape...and paused.

‘’What is this?’’ he asked, black-and-red eyes wide as they stared at the blooming canopy over the bed.

‘’I made it,’’ Elisen said proudly.

‘’You made it?’’ Vae echoed, sounding amazed.

‘’Yes.’’

‘’Just like that?’’

Elisen felt a prideful flush spill onto his cheeks as Vaeril turned to him, ‘’yes.’’

‘’That’s...’’ Vaeril opened his mouth and for a second, it sounded like he would say something uncharacteristically kind, a great compliment that Eli so rarely received...but then he just cleared his throat and gave a short, firm nod, ‘’good.’’

Elisen groaned and walked over, ‘’just good?’’ when Vae just gave him a blank look, Eli stepped closer to him, feeling suddenly shy. He reached up, playing with the silver buckles of the dark, leather tunic on his chest. Vaeril looked surprise, ‘’can’t you praise me a bit more than that?’’

Vae chuckled – warm, low, ‘’fine. It’s amazing. I can’t believe you managed to make something so delicate.’’

‘’And it only took a moment,’’ Elisen looked up at him, beaming. Their eyes met and Eli’s smile disappeared as he gazed into Vaeril’s eyes. Had they always been so captivating?

Vae’s smile was soft, too, as he reached out and brushed the backs of his calloused knuckles over Elisen’s cheek, ‘’you’ve gotten so strong...’’ he murmured.

It would have been the perfect opportunity for Eli to press Vae into letting him leave the tower and help eradicating the monsters of Rhein, but, somehow, that’s not what Eli wanted to talk about in that moment. His heart hammered in his chest at Vaeril’s unexpected compliments and the pit of his stomach burned from his intense gaze. Without thinking of it, Elisen threw his arms around his warden and pulled him down into a kiss. He felt Vaeril inhale sharply, the subtle tug as he stumble a half-step back in surprise... but Elisen found himself following him, keeping their lips locked. It was only a shallow peck – Elisen didn’t know how to do more, but he _wanted_ to do more. Bur Vaeril broke the kiss. When Elisen looked at him, the witch’s eyes were serious. Eli bit his lip, feely embarrassed but not ready to give up yet, ‘’I...thought we could do this...sometimes?’’

Vaeril sighed deeply, running a hand down his face. He looked worn-out, ‘’it’s a bad idea,’’ he said, not looking at Elisen but somewhere over the top of his white head. In that moment, Elisen realised that Vaeril _wanted_ to. He reached for him and this time, Vae didn’t pull back as Eli put a hand against his chest and connected their lips together. Finally, after what felt like eternity, Vaeril tilted his head and kissed Eli back. Eli gasped against his lips as the witch easily pushed his tongue into his ward’s mouth. It was slow and soft, exploratory but hesitant. He broke the kiss briefly to whisper, ‘’just sometimes,’’ before re-connecting their lips. Elisen felt his legs grow weak so he was relieved when Vae tugged him down into his lap as he sat down on the bed, below the gorgeous canopy.

Eli felt like there was a fire burning in him and only Vae’s hands could put it out. But Vaeril just stubbornly kept his hands on Elisen’s hips, light, as if afraid to touch when Elisen _needed_ him to touch. He broke the kiss and pressed Vae’s hands firmly to his hips. Later, he’d be embarrassed but there was no time for embarrassment then. His eyes burned with desire as he whispered, ‘’touch me more.’’

Vae looked apprehensive, ‘’Eli-‘’

‘’Please,’’ Elisen blurted. His breath was ragged, ‘’I feel like I’ll go crazy if you don’t.’’

To his surprise, Vaeril blushed. Red spilled over his light brown cheeks – it suited him, ‘’brat,’’ he grunted.

Elisen yelped when, in the next instance, he was laying on his back on the furs on his bed. Vae’s eyes were dark, even his red one – dark with lust. With want. Elisen’s breath caught. Vae grabbed his ankles and yanked him harshly down the bed, till his hips were over the bed-frame. Then, in one sweeping, graceful movement, the male knelt down. He pushed long-ish black curls out of his eyes and reached to pull down Eli’s pants. He did so quickly and smoothly, before the boy could ask him what he was doing. He became flustered and blushing when Vae rid him of his undergarments. He wished Vae would explain what he was doing, but Eli’s trust for him made his body relax. And when Vaeril leaned down and took his member in his mouth, Eli’s world exploded.

He cried out, hands fisting in the furs in surprise, head thrown back. His cock was instantly hard and throbbing but Vae just kept taking more of him into his mouth, as if it was nothing. Elisen couldn’t even wonder about whether this was normal or not – his mind went completely blank. All he could think about was Vaeril’s tongue on him, hot and persistent. Elisen’s hips jerked when Vae slid a hand between his buttocks, lifting his hips up a bit. Eli whimpered when he felt a finger prod into him, just as insistent as Vae’s tongue, but gentle at the same time, ‘’wh...wha...’’ he blabbered, feeling like he couldn’t breathe or move or think. Vae’s finger entered him properly, all the way to the knuckle. Vae moved it in and out slowly, giving Elisen time to adjust as he bobbed his head up and down more vigorously. And then his finger brushed against a spot deep inside Elisen and the white-haired witch moaned. He felt Vae hum around him, pleased with the reaction. He pushed his finger in and out, making sure to brush up against that spot as much as possible.

He had Elisen reduced to a whimpering mess in moments. He came within a minute and Vaeril swallowed it down, wondering faintly how it was possible for someone to taste so sweet. He gave Eli a few more long, slow licks, his judgement clouded with pleasure at having made his apprentice feel good. He finally pulled back, sitting on his heels and watching Eli, half naked, panting, eyes closed. He suddenly wished to rip Elisen’s clothes off him and hold him close, all night long. Forever. But he pushed those thoughts away, as he always did. At first, his love for Elisen had been only natural after spending so many years together. But then, as Elisen grew into an adult – a powerful, determined witch – Vae’s feelings turned to something different. He never wanted to admit those feelings to himself or to Eli. He was content as long as he kept Elisen safe, here in the tower. But now...well, Eli had made his plans go to hell with only minimal convincing. Maybe it was his pretty eyes or his soft, long, white hair or the way he smiled...but lately, Vae wanted to give into all of his demands.

He wiped the corner of his mouth and stood, ‘’put your clothes back on,’’ he said, trying not to sound regretful. They’d taken it too far and he had a feeling there was no going back from that...so why did he feel relieved that he’d finally crossed that line?

‘’Vae...’’ came Elisen’s tiny voice. He’d pushed himself up on his elbow and looked at Vaeril with eyes that oozed confusion and hurt.

Vae sighed sharply and went to him, pulling up his undergarments and pants, ‘’you should only do this with someone you love,’’ he said in his commanding ‘teacher’ voice.

Elisen looked down guilty at his feet and Vae hated himself for it. His hands lingered on Eli’s hips. It felt impossible for him to pull them back, ‘’what is love anyway?’’ Elisen whispered, ‘’I don’t understand it. You haven’t taught me about it. I...only know what my heart feels. I don’t know anything else,’’ he sounded more and more miserable by the second. He finally looked up at Vaeril. Both his gold eye and his green one were filled with tears, ‘’do you love me?’’ he asked and his voice cracked.

Vae’s eyes widened. He didn’t want to confess it – it would only bring them harm – but he couldn’t stomach the idea of hurting Elisen. He was all alone here, in the tower; he only had Vae in the whole wide world. The least Vaeril could do for him was tell him the truth. He brushed his knuckles briefly over Eli’s cheek, ‘’of course I do,’’ he whispered, feeling warmth stir in his heart at the relief in Eli’s eyes, ‘’how could I not?’’

Elisen sniffled and smiled. Vaeril would go to war for Elisen’s smile, ‘’I love you, too.’’

Vae’s heart – which he had though dead millennia ago, until he met Elisen – fluttered in his chest, ‘’you...you don’t even know anyone else,’’ he said, clearing his throat anxiously.

‘’Then let me know other people,’’ Eli stood, taking Vae with him, ‘’you said yourself that I’m strong. Take me out there,’’ he nodded to the window and the barren, cold world beyond, ‘’with you.’’

Vae sighed softly, cupping Elisen’s face briefly, ‘’soon, but not yet. When you are ready.’’

‘’You’ll never say I’m ready,’’ Eli groaned and Vae almost regretted his words when Elisen walked away from him, sitting on the window’s ledge, ‘’I just want to know what’s out there,’’ he looked glumly over the barren land and withered trees that spread as far as the eye could see, ‘’it can’t be just this,’’ he added softly to himself. As if the gods themselves were giving him a sign, a blue bird fluttered in through the window. Eli smiled. He loved birds. The tiny animal sat on his outstretched finger, hopping excitedly, then fluttered inside the tower to sit on the canopy of flowers.

‘’Out there is more of the same thing,’’ Vae said firmly and Eli’s good mood evaporated. Vae came to sit next to him; his stern look turned gentle, ‘’its monsters and creatures and witchunters and...’’ he trailed off, shaking his head, ‘’trust me, Eli. Treasure the time you spend here. Cherish it,’’ Vae looked out at the arid landscape, too, ‘’your days in this tower will be the most peaceful days of your life.’’

Vaeril got that look in his eyes, like he was far away. Like he was thinking about what was out there; like his own most peaceful days were in this tower, too, when he came to visit Elisen. Feeling bad for wanting to throw himself head-first into the bloody battles that Vae fought alone to keep him safe, Elisen hopped off the windowsill, ‘’you must be hungry; let me make you some food,’’ he said brightly, skipping out of the room.

Vaeril was left alone in the quiet, empty room. The silence was broken up by the blue-bird, hopping from branch to branch on the canopy. It was a pretty, sweet songbird, nothing like anything that belonged in the miserable landscape outside. Vaeril stood and walked over to the canopy, extending out his hand. The bird chirped and hopped into Vaeril’s palm.

Vae whispered a quick spell under his breath and the bird lit up with flame, like a pyre. Vaeril watched it burn with eyes cold as ice. Its dying screech was short and faint. In the next instance the bird was nothing but ash in Vae’s hand. The witch blew it out of the window. The grey dust settled over the dead earth below – it fit into the landscape perfectly now.

*~*~*

Azariah grinned, driving his hips down and grinding his ass into Nym’s cock, buried deep inside him. It wasn’t half bad – enough to get Aza excited, at least – but Nym was a flustered idiot in bed and he didn’t exactly know what to do to make Azariah feel good. That worked well for Aza. The last thing he needed was to actually enjoy having sex with his ordinary, good-for-nothing husband. Still, at least he didn’t hate this – especially when Nym groaned and his head fell back against the wooden headboard of his bed in the bandit caves, his hands gripping Aza’s hips tightly. Azariah smirked, enjoying making his husband and mess, and leaned in, nipping at his ear, ‘’feels good?’’ he asked innocently. He was hard, too, but far from coming, which couldn’t be said about Nym.

‘’Crap...you always...fuck, you always...’’ Nym could barely make a coherent thought. He thrust up, into Aza and a shivery pang went through Azariah. Not good. This was starting to feel...well... Aza pushed a strand of pale blond hair behind his ear and wound his arms around Nym’s neck. Then, without a warning, he lifted his ass and brought it down on Nym’s cock. Nym groaned and came messily inside. Aza felt his body tingle at the sensation. He’d never allowed anyone in the Kåvieh-Dah to come inside; the last thing he needed was for his curse to be carried over onto his heir. But Nym was ordinary – all too ordinary – and so there was no risk. The sensation of being filled made Aza bite his lip, clinging onto Nym tighter.

Nym shivered through his orgasm, then relaxed completely, as if his strength gave way. His hand came between them, fingers sliding gently over Aza’s erection, ‘’I didn’t make you come again,’’ he sounded grumpy.

Azariah giggled, ‘’and whose fault is that?’’ he kissed the shell of Nym’s ear and got off him. He felt Nym’s eyes on his pale, naked body as he gathered his clothes and put them on. His erection was already going down – it would be gone by the time he got to his own mountain, ‘’well, goodnight.’’

Nym jumped out of bed, hurriedly throwing his pants on, ‘’wait...you’re going!?’’

‘’Of course,’’ Aza settled his horned helmet on his head, ‘’you should be used to this by now.’’

Nym stormed up to him, ‘’no. That’s not right. We’re married – you should be spending the night in your husband’s chamber.’’

‘’I did,’’ Aza said innocently.

‘’The whole night,’’ Nym raved, ‘’besides, you shouldn’t even be living in the western mountain! What do you run off there for? To spy on us? You should stay here, since you agreed to marry me.’’

Aza gave him an unimpressed look, ‘’neither of us wants to deal with the other on a daily basis, I assure you. This is fine,’’ he shrugged, ‘’I’ll come tomorrow, if you’d like,’’ he made for the doors.

‘’Stop!’’ Nym suddenly grabbed Aza’s wrist and yanked him back, ‘’I command you!’’

A small, amused smile blossomed on Aza’s lips, ‘’you command me?’’ he turned fully to face Nym and the bandit faltered, letting go of Azariah’s wrist. Aza stepped up to him and, though he was shorter and unarmed, Nym felt the urge to step out of the way. Aza reached up and grasped his chin, running a finger along his jaw-line in a caress, ‘’you can’t command me, darling.’’ 

Nym looked stricken. Aza pressed a very deliberate kiss to the tip of his nose and turned to go. He walked out of Nym’s bedroom and into the cavern corridors of the mountain, unobstructed. Here, his smile fell.

_I command you!_

Aza’s brows furrowed. He hadn’t considered telling Nym about his curse, not even for a second – but now he knew for sure that he could never trust his husband with that knowledge.

*~*~*

Nym watched Azariah leave the room helplessly. Short of throwing him on the bed and tying him up, he didn’t know what to do to keep him in his chamber once they were done having sex. Sex... Nym sighed, looking down at himself critically. He didn’t exactly consider himself a bad lover, but maybe he was, since Aza never got off. It wasn’t like Nym _wanted_ to get Aza off, but when it was so one-sided, it felt...

‘’Ah, what the hell,’’ Nym grumbled, running a hand through his golden-ginger hair and stormed out of his room. He went to the mess hall where, like most nights, Halin was counting money and drinking. Jayse was at her side, wanting to make himself useful but succeeding only at being annoying, as always.

‘’Hey,’’ Halin said without looking up from her money stacks.

‘’I need advice,’’ Nym said bluntly.

Halin did look up at that. Jayse, who had been pestering Halin to let him help count the (illegally obtained) bandit funds, whipped round to Nym and grinned, ‘’sure – what’s up?’’ he asked brightly.

Nym held back from giving Jayse a look or reminding that he had no use for advice from a sixteen year old fledgling. He instead traced the scars on his hands without thinking, like he tended to do. The familiarity of it calmed him, ‘’it’s about Azariah.’’

‘’Troublemaker,’’ Halin said instantly, rolling her eyes. In the dimness of the mess hall, with only the fire in the fireplace, her skin looked black and her hair looked like a cloud of smoke. She looked like some immortal deity – who was also drinking a huge jug of ale and counting the tips from her latest raid.

‘’Yeah, he is,’’ Nym agreed, ‘’he’s unpredictable and weird and- - and he won’t even sleep in my room!’’

‘’Wow, are you that bad at sex?’’ Jayse teased.

Nym kissed his teeth and reached across the wooden table to smack Jayse upside the head, sending his pale brown ponytail flying. Halin brought out a sack and put the money inside, ‘’he probably doesn’t trust you enough to sleep around you,’’ she said simply.

‘’Why wouldn’t he?’’ Nym scowled, ‘’I picked him as my bride – why would I want to kill him in his sleep?’’

Halin shrugged, ‘’as you said, he’s weird. The Kåvieh-Dah all are.’’

‘’But they’re pretty,’’ Jayse couldn’t help but say. His eyes sparkled, ‘’what if he has some secret that he doesn’t want to tell you about?’’

Nym frowned, brows drawing under his blue bandana, ‘’like what?’’

‘’Like maybe he has a secret lover that he’d rather spend the nights with,’’ Jayse said with a cheeky grin, ‘’or maybe he doesn’t sleep at all; maybe he’s nocturnal or he’s some kind of-‘’

‘’He probably just doesn’t like you,’’ Halin dead-panned, then added, ‘’but you should follow him after he leaves your room. Then you’ll know for sure and you can stop worrying about it.’’

‘’I don’t care that much,’’ Nym grumbled, but he couldn’t help and think about what Jayse had said. An image flashed before his eyes – an image of a naked Azariah, his face open and vulnerable, mouth parted in a moan as he was held in the arms of some faceless man. A man that wasn’t Nym. Jealousy gripped his stomach and he grabbed Halin’s drink, downing the ale. He slammed the jug down and said, ‘’but I’ll do it. I’ll follow him and I’ll find out what he keeps sneaking away for.’’

*~*~*

It was evening, which didn’t mean any reprieve for the citizens of New Vallarta. The Khandarian sun was unforgiving and, rather than avoiding it, Sharian realised he’d have to get used to it. Khandar was his home now. All the dusty paths and the treacherous jungle and the warring tribes and the simple, wooden huts of New Vallarta...it was all home. He sighed softly, counting money by candlelight. They didn’t have much – he was a bride, so he was supposed to do things around the house and Jhaan spent half his pension at the tavern. It left them with enough money for food, but no prospects. Sharian pushed the small coins around the kitchen table, by which he was sitting. He could dream about buying a plot of land or even some farm animals, to make his place here permanent, but with Jhaan’s drinking habit that wasn’t likely. Maybe they should try to save up and buy the tavern from Keya Mak. The doors opened and Jhaan walked in. Sharian looked up. Jhaan looked tired – his dark blond hair was messy and his dusty arms, peeking from under his sleeveless tunic, glistened with sweat – now that they couldn’t touch Tetawken forest, Jhaan had been put to making weapons all day. Sharian didn’t even want to think about what they would be used for, ‘’hard day at work?’’ Sharian asked, ‘’do you want supper?’’

Jhaan came over and put down a piece of parchment in front of Sharian, ‘’have you seen this?’’

Sharian froze. Parchment like this could be anything – a warrant for arrest, a wanted poster... but, thankfully, it was just a notice. Sharian picked it up and read it by candlelight.

** CITIZENS OF NEW VALLARTA!  **

**YOU HAVE ALL BEEN WORKING HARD AND SOON, IT WILL ALL PAY OFF; NEW VALLARTA SHALL EXPAND AND MANY BRILLIANT CITIES WILL RISE; HISTORY WILL REMEMBER US AS THE SETTLERS OF THESE CITIES.**

**WE HAVE THE RESOURCES AND DETERMINATION TO MAKE IT HAPPEN – NOW, WE JUST NEED PEOPLE TO FILL IT. MORE WILL COME FROM THE KINGDOMS BUT YOU ALL SHOULD BEGIN TO SETTLE IN PROPERLY NOW THAT YOU HAVE YOUR BRIDES.**

**FOR EVERY CHILD BORN IN NEW VALLARTA THERE WILL BE A TWENTY GOLD REWARD!**

**Signed**

**GOVERNOR CRASS**

Sharian’s brows furrowed, ‘’the natives won’t like that.’’

Jhaan gestured to the notice, ‘’the natives won’t know. They can’t read our languages; more importantly, don’t you know what this is basically asking us to do?’’

Sharian realised that, for the first time, Jhaan wasn’t drunk. For some reason, he felt embarrassed. Heat crept up his neck and spilled over his golden cheeks, ‘’they...want the new couples to have children.’’

‘’And they’re offering a reward,’’ Jhaan added, ‘’twenty gold pieces.’’

Twenty gold pieces. It wasn’t a fortune, but it was a good sum. And if they had kids, or if Sharian popped out three or four kids, they’d have enough to actually buy something. Own something. Land or a building or even a cow or something...it would make his spot here permanent. Suddenly determined, Sharian tossed the notice to the side and sat up on the wooden bench, ‘’well? Let’s get on with it, then,’’ he said softly.

Jhaan’s pierced eyebrows went up. He took a slow step closer, ‘’here?’’

‘’Unless you’d rather carry me to bed.’’

Jhaan’s lips quirked up and he pushed Sharian’s legs apart slowly, almost lazily, ‘’this is fine,’’ his voice was low and enticing. Despite having ulterior motives, Sharian felt himself grow excited, especially when his husband stepped between his legs and pushed him down, laying him flat on the table beside the money. He looked him over, ‘’guess you’re my supper, then,’’ he said.

Sharian laughed at that. Jhaan blinked, surprise, hovering over Sharian. The boy paused, ‘’what?’’

‘’Nothing,’’ Jhaan leaned down and brushed his lips against Sharian’s neck, ‘’just...you laugh nice, is all.’’

Sharian blushed. He reached up, hooking his fingers shyly into the bottom of Jhaan’s tunic, ‘’if you like it so much you should make me laugh more often,’’ he whispered.

‘’I don’t know if you’ve noticed,’’ Jhaan’s nose brushed Sharian’s neck, ‘’but I don’t exactly have a sense of humour.’’

Sharian smiled. Somehow, sober Jhaan made him feel...comfortable, ‘’I’m sure you could come up with something,’’ he murmured.

Jhaan took hold of his face and kissed him, pressing him into the table with his body. Sharian felt the brush of the metal ring piercing Jhaan’s bottom lip before the older man parted his lips with his tongue. Sharian sighed into the kiss. Now that he was becoming surer of his place in Khandar and he was trying not to worry so much, he realised how touch starved he’d been. The journey to Khandar had been long and he’d never been married before. There was a certain thrill to it, especially when it was Jhaan – with rough, impatient hands and a blunt mouth that knew how to kiss just right, ‘’Jhaan...’’ Sharian breathed between kisses. Jhaan kissed him deeper. Sharian’s hands slid under Jhaan’s tunic, brushing against his hard muscles. Jhaan broke the kiss to take his tunic off the rest of the way.

After that, Jhaan lost his patience. He took Sharian’s clothes off in quick movements and then pressed fingers in him. Sharian gasped, his hand nearly knocking the candle over as he covered his face. When Jhaan was drunk, it was easy to pretend he’d forget everything in the morning. But sober Jhaan saw and remembered everything. Jhaan leaned over Sharian, pushing another finger in as he grabbed his arm with his free hand. He pulled it away from Sharian’s face, pinning it above his head, ‘’you’re right above the window,’’ Jhaan said, removing his fingers, ‘’try not to be loud, unless you want the whole settlement to hear,’’ he didn’t seem to be bothered about everyone hearing Sharian.

Sharian bit his lip but couldn’t help and cry out when Jhaan moved into him. It was as if he was making it his mission to have Sharian moan loud enough for everyone to hear. Sharian pressed his free hand to his mouth but Jhaan grabbed that, too, pinning both his wrists above his head. At first, Sharian’s thrusts were hard and rough, making Sharian whimper as his thighs trembled from the strain and the pleasure. But, gradually, Sharian slowed, until his thrusts were deep and almost gentle. He let go of Sharian’s arms and Sharian instantly wrapped them around Jhaan’s neck, needing purchase, ‘’J...haan...’’ he moaned breathlessly. Jhaan grasped his chin and kissed him. They came together and, after, Sharian clung to his husband, trembling. He didn’t know why but in that moment, it felt as if Jhaan was the only person in the world who could protect him. Sharian felt bare and vulnerable but he felt that it was fine to be like that in front of Jhaan. He tilted his head up, cupping Jhaan’s face as he caught his breath, splayed on the table, ‘’Jhaan,’’ he said again, softer. Jhaan cupped one of his hand against his face, ‘’you won’t ever leave me, will you?’’ Sharian whispered, his voice trembling.

Jhaan’s eyes widened a little, ‘’no. Of course not.’’

Sharian bit his lip. He wanted to spill his secrets, all of them – to get them off his chest and be done with them. But...would Jhaan truly protect him if he knew the truth, ‘’no matter what?’’ he whispered.

Jhaan frowned lightly, ‘’Arthion...’’ he said warmly, quietly, ‘’what are you so afraid of?’’

Sharian didn’t know what to say so he just shook his head; his walls went back up. He got off the table and Jhaan didn’t promise anything in the end.

*~*~*

After dealing with the Myaamia tribe once, Crass Roxton didn’t expect to have to deal with them _again_ the very next morning. And yet, right after breakfast, chief Achak and his whole entourage were back in New Vallarta and looking angrier than ever. Crass’ attention was instantly captured by that pretty fire dancer of their – Demothi this or that, he couldn’t quite remember. The omega stood near the front of the group, all perfect dark skin and silver hair threaded with feathers...even though there was clearly trouble, Crass couldn’t help but smirk appreciatively under his nose. He moved from where he stood in the doorway of his house and Jana followed, her red gown sweeping the sandy ground. The infernal sand was constantly being blown in from the shore; Crass couldn’t wait until they could build a proper city further in mainland, near a river or a waterfall where lush greenery grew and-

‘’Crass Roxton, you lied to us!’’Catori, Achak’s Hasinai translator, cried. She looked like a kitten ready to rip his eyes out with her claws.

‘’Dear chief,’’ Crass pointedly ignored Catori Moon-Daughter and looked to Achak instead, ‘’I thought we had sorted this issue yesterday.’’

Achak said a few sharp words to Catori in that gritting language of theirs and Crass ignored the urge to turn and leave them alone. He had many things to take care of – he didn’t have time to worry about the natives. They would be dealt with as soon as the soldiers arrived. But, clearly, the gods-forsaken Myaamia weren’t going to let him go so easily. Catori crossed her arms over her chest, the bow and arrows at her back suddenly seeming a little more threatening as pure raged oozed from her eyes, ‘’we know you plan to bring soldiers here! That is not what we agreed on! If you threaten us or violate the territory we agreed on, we will come at you with all we have got and we will slaughter your people like we slaughtered the Tetawken-‘’

‘’Oh, please, what is all this fuss about?’’ Crass laughed dismissively though his blood boiled. Which of his alphas dared betray him so early on? Who had ran and told the Myaamia of the soldiers? This could destroy everything he was working for, ‘’what soldiers? I told you – we are bringing brides. _Brides_. Harmless omegas and betas who are only good for...well,’’ he cleared his throat, ‘’we did not come here to make war, chief. We have come here to lead a peaceful and prosperous life alongside you,’’ he jerked his chin at Catori, ‘’tell him.’’

Catori gritted her teeth but translated. Achak’s brows furrowed and he shot something back in their native language. Behind him, the Myaamia were getting agitated. Demothi was glaring daggers at Crass. It was a good look on him. Crass couldn’t help but grow excited; an insubordinate omega was always easier to school and make into a proper gentleman. But all his thoughts of Moth disappeared when Catori said, ‘’don’t lie! Dain, one of your men, came to us and-‘’ she cut off sharply, realising she had said too much.

Crass’ eyes narrowed. He looked behind him, at the New Vallarta citizens who had gathered, curious. Dain was amongst them – his eye-patch made him stand up, ‘’Dain?’’ Crass said slowly and their eyes met across the square. He saw fear flicker in Dain’s eyes, ‘’Dain Yahren told you this?’’ he nodded at Kalil Vult, who signalled to two other soldiers. They hurried to Dain and grabbed him, dragging him before Crass. Dain didn’t resist but he kept his eyes – well, eye – down, ‘’this?’’ Crass gave Dain a disgusted look. He wanted nothing more than to kick the traitor to the ground and drive his boot into the back of his head, ‘’he is a mere worker; he has no bride and his house isn’t even finished. He has nothing and he is nothing – except a liar.’’

‘’Why would he lie?’’ Catori challenged without Achak’s prompt.

‘’If he has nothing to gain here, he may well have something to gain from you,’’ Crass said boldly, ‘’whatever this man told you, is not true. He has caused pointless strife between us for his own benefit but he was not smart enough to think of a better plan.’’

‘’Wait, that’s not-‘’ Dain tried to protest.

Crass gave a sharp nod to the guards, ‘’take him. I’ll see to it that he is punished.’’ He saw Moth jerk in the corner of his vision, as if to protest, when the two guards dragged Dain away to the temporary jailhouse. Demothi’s friend – tall and unremarkable, painted green like the rest of the mongrels – grabbed his arm to keep him in place. An idea blossomed in Crass’ head and he sent his daughter a victorious look before saying, ‘’it looks like you were in the wrong, chief.’’

‘’We have no proof that you are telling the truth!’’ Catori barked.

‘’And you have no proof that he was telling the truth either,’’ Crass replied coldly, ‘’translate for the chief; I have no business with you.’’

She translated. Achak looked angry, then troubled. They spoke quickly and quietly in a language that Crass could not understand and it bothered him. He exchanged looks with Jana. She looked puzzled. Finally, through clenched teeth, Catori said, ‘’chief Achak Ancestor-Spirit asks you to accept his apologies.’’

‘’Apologies are not enough,’’ Crass said, trying not to smile smugly. Now he had them, ‘’you come in here, causing trouble, bringing weapons and threatening us,’’ Catori glanced worriedly at the spears and arrows the Myaamia carried, ‘’no, an apology is not enough. The mistrust from your people is apparent. We should fix it.’’

Catori translated to Achak. The chief looked like he didn’t know whether to believe Crass or Dain but without proof, he couldn’t accuse Crass of anything. The proof would be the soldiers arriving on the shores of Khandar and, by then, it would be too late. Crass really did smirk as Catori turned back to him and asked, ‘’how?’’

‘’Perhaps a token of the chief’s goodwill,’’ Crass said conversationally, his eyes landing on Demothi, who flinched, ‘’a bride, to join our two tribes.’’

He saw Catori stiffen, follow his line of view and notice Moth. She said something to Achak. He replied. Their voices grew louder, their replies snappier – Moth seemed to try to shy away and disappear in the crowd. Finally Achak himself spoke in broken Kai, ‘’we will think about it,’’ then he turned swiftly and walked off, his tribesmen following him.

*~*~*

As soon as Jana burst into Aria’s room, Aria knew she was in knee-deep, stinking _shit_. She’d seen the whole affair with the Myaamia tribe from her window; now, when the commotion ended, Jana swept into the room. She looked like vengeance Herself in her red gown and eyes that looked like they would blow up anything they landed on, ‘’ _you_...!’’ Aria wasn’t a scaredy-cat by any means but Jana barrelling towards her, looking mad as hell, scared the living daylights out of her. She scrambled from where she’d been watching at the window till her back hit the wall. Jana grabbed her face, harshly, forcing her wife to look at her, ‘’you told Dain, didn’t you!?’’

‘’I didn’t!’’

‘’First the Myaamia find out about the expansion, then about the soldiers – we told you about both!’’

‘’I didn’t tell, I swear!’’ Aria said, grabbing Jana’s wrist and trying to force her to let go.

Jana pinned her again the wall and Aria stilled, terrified, ‘’we provide you with _everything_!’’ Jana spat, ‘’the house, an allowance, a comfortable life, even the fucking dress you’re wearing right now-‘’

‘’I didn’t ask for any of those!’’ Aria parried. There was one thing she hated and it was people making her feel like she owed them something, ‘’I would have been happy coming here to work.’’

Jana was trembling with anger, ‘’but you came here as a bride. _My_ bride! And now you’re...you’re ruining everything! You’re supposed to be my wife!’’

‘’I don’t want to be!’’ Aria yelled. She didn’t know where the anger came from but it sure as hell was better than fear. She slapped Jana’s hand away and Jana looked as if Aria had cracked her across the face, ‘’the expansion, the soldiers, everything you’re planning with your father makes me _sick_! I didn’t say anything this time but I sure as hell will next time, so keep me out of your stupid little plans! You’re a fucking monsters and so is your father!’’ her rage reached its zenith. She balled her hands into fists, shaking all over, ‘’I’m ashamed to be your wife,’’ she spat and stormed past her and out of her house, her infernal gown swishing. She wished she had gunpowder so she could blow this whole shit-show to hell.

*~*~*

‘’He said he wants me...he said that he wants me. I didn’t hear that wrong, right?’’ Moth raved, walking back and forth in front of the communal fire back in Banglan. The rest of those who had gone with Achak to the Shore People sat around the fire glumly, ‘’oh, ancestors, that’s bad...that’s really bad...’’ Moth knew Crass had been interested in him, but to request him so outright...Dain flashed in Moth’s head and Moth shrunk in on himself. Dain had helped them but Catori and her big mouth had sold him out...as anxious as Moth was for himself, he was even more worried about Dain, but he couldn’t exactly tell his tribe that he was friends with a shore person. Or...that they were mates. Moth still didn’t quite grasp what that word meant but it seemed important.

Achak rose. His face was grim, ‘’you will have to leave, Demothi.’’

Moth’s blood ran cold, ‘’what?’’ he whispered, voice tiny. No, this couldn’t be happening...surely...

Achak went to him and put a hand on his shoulder, ‘’just for a little while. Go up to the mountain, to the caves; the Shore People don’t know about them. Stay there until we send for you. Crass Roxton will likely come here looking for you; we will say you ran off in the middle of the night and we couldn’t find you after.’’

Moth swallowed thickly, ‘’right...’’ he used to play in the caves with Catori and Ashkii when they were children but the thought of staying there, alone, at night filled Moth with fear. On the other hand, it was a smart decision. Crass Roxton and the Shore People didn’t know the caves existed and they wouldn’t go looking there; the jungle was too treacherous for those who did not know it well. Moth took a deep breath, ‘’right...’’ he said again.

Achak patted his shoulder, ‘’we will gather provisions and weapons. You leave tonight.’’

Dain flickered through Moth’s mind again. He touched the star pendant that had been Dain’s – the foreigner had let Moth keep it. It was warm against his chest. He raised his chin, ‘’before I go, there’s one more thing I need to do.’’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! If you liked this story, check out my page that a multitude of bl and omegaverse stories available on there, with a few new ones every month! 
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> \- The Lost City of Skana: an alpha prince's expedition finally find the lost city of omegas after nearly 100 years. But the omegas have evolved into beautiful, warrior dragon riders and for the first time, its the alphas who must prove themselves worthy of the omegas.
> 
> TAGS: fantasy, romance, slow burn, adventure, action, omegaverse, hurt/comfort, first kisses  
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> \- The Six Targets of the Shadow of New York: Ai, a mysterious omega, is given to the South Bronx Cartel as a gift from the Lazzari family, a powerful mafia wanting to make allies with Aden's small-time gang. Ai quickly becomes interwoven with his new gang, as he pulls them into a plot against the Lazzari family and as they pull him into bed...
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> TAGS: multi-pairing, polyamory, foursome, threesome, pack couples, omegaverse, alpha x omega, heats, gangs, action, thriller, romance, slow-burn 
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> \- Revenant: a 600-year old vampire decides to employ a student to feed on over the summer. He doesn't expect a happy-go-lucky teenager who seems to know everything about space travel. 
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> \- Letters from the Frontline (War Brides 3): when war breaks out, carrier Winnie, the single parent of three little boys, has no choice but to sign up to be the bride of his neighbour, Silas, who has been in love with him for as long as he can remember. 
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> TAGS: arranged marriage, war, slow burn, friends to lovers, single parent, mpreg 
> 
>   
> \- Sunsleep: as the faerie lands die, the last of the faeries form a pact with humans, marrying into their royal families. Once they marry, the faeries lose their wings and their immortality. Fyre, a ferocious young faerie, and Ciri, a peaceful priest of the haemir, end up at the same castle. Fyre can't believe he has to marry Artos, the crown prince of Abel - to him, the impulsive, arrogant human is not worth giving his wings up for. Meanwhile, Ciri is bethrothed to Rowan, who is barely six - he gets to keep his wings for many years to come, but what kind of person will the boy Ciri is promised to grow up to be? 
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> TAGS: arranged marriage, fantasy, fairies, fairy x human, age gap, medieval, fairytale, folklore, slow burn, hate to love, angst, hurt/comfort
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> \- My Boyfriend is With the Mafia: an omega stripper is just trying to get enough money to pay fo his brother's art college when he is spotted by none other than the biggest mafia boss in Rome. In the heat of the moment, the stripper agrees to be the gangster's boyfriend to help him out with his ex; except the gangster takes it very seriously. Now the poor stripper finds the gangster on his doorstep with a bouquet of roses, convinced they are boyfriends...
> 
> TAGS: gangster x stripper, mafia, erotica, romance, slow burn, fake relationsips, omegaverse, alpha x omega, poor x rich, lap dances 
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> UPCOMING! 
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> After the war between men and enchanters, peace has finally come about; Prince Ishkhan, King Liuli's bastard brother, is sent to the enemy country to oversee the peace agreements; he is met with a grumpy miner who wants nothing to do with enchanters. SEQUEL TO 'THE ENCHANTER'! 
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	7. Birds and the Thunderstorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi guyss! I'm so so so sorry about being 6 months late with the update! Unfortunately this story takes a back-back seat to all my others, and with my final year at uni, I've been crazy busy! Still, I appreciate all the love and support you guys give me sooooo much!  
> If you'd like to support me further, please check out the end notes! Till then, enjot the early xmas gift! 
> 
> OH BY THE WAY another reason why it took so long was because I've been experimenting a bit with illustrations. I'm popping them in, alongside a map of Kainan, as you guys have been asking! Bear in mind that the illustrations are from 6 months ago and any new ones will be looking much better! Let me know what you think! Lots of love & stay safe ;*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PREVIOUSLY ON BLOODLINE 
> 
> IN SOLIN a small uprising against Usurper King Fengor resulted in the arrival of rebels in Solin Underground, amongst them rabble-rouser Venali Dairmuid and Zeno, who are determined to help princess Nerideth save her people from the underground city they are forced to live in. 
> 
> IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE the party of academy witches purchase horses at a forlorn inn and head over the Solin-Koln border to Kanalei, from where they plan to pay the Moher Mountain bandits a visit. 
> 
> IN ELISEN’S TOWER Elisen’s powers grow stronger alongside his love for Vaeril. The young witch pushes his mentor into more affection but the pair stops before going all the way; instead, Vaeril tells Elisen that despite his growing powers, he is still not ready to fight alongside him in Rhein. 
> 
> IN THE MOHER MOUNTAINS Azariah refuses to stay the night in his new husband’s room once again. Distraught, Nym seeks advice from his friends. They tell him that next time Azariah refuses to stay the night, Nym should follow him and see where – and with who – he spends the long, dark hours instead. 
> 
> SOMEWHERE OFF THE COAST OF ARNHEIM A’ghealach – the Moonkiller – sinks in a terrible storm. With the last of his strength, Thorn ties himself and Faelan, his unwilling, passed-out fiancé, to a plank of wood in hopes of not drowning as they are carried away by the merciless seas. 
> 
> IN KHANDAR the Myaamia tribe return to New Vallarta after Dain tips them off about the lies of Governor Roxton regarding the rumoured soldiers that will be arriving in Khandar. Unable to prove anything, the Myaamia leave empty-handed; worse, Crass Roxton demands they hand over Demothi to him as compensation for the insult and throws Dain into jail for ratting the settlers out. Achak, chief of the Myaamia, tells Moth to run away so that Crass can’t claim him, but before Moth run away, there is something he must do. 
> 
> Meanwhile, a notice is posted in New Vallarta that any couple who will produce children to populate the town will be rewarded. Jhaan and Sharian make love and a bond seems to form between them. Sharian hopes for a child that will secure his place in Khandar, especially now, when ex-guard Jasim Shaed is seeking out the truth about him. At the same time, Jana, Roxton’s daughter, accuses her wife, Aria, of telling Dain about the soldiers. Aria screams that she has not and calls Jana a monster before storming out, leaving the future governess at a loss...
> 
> (if you've forgotten the story, I suggest reading the 'previously on' from the previous chapters!!)

Moth waited behind a mountain of tree logs until night fell. The Shore People had taken a good chunk out of Tetawken Forest and its trees were stacked now, lifeless, in pyres outside the ugly houses of the town. They were not ready to be used for building new houses or even for firewood, and so no one came near the copses after the work hours were over. Moth waited there, crouched and, eventually, when his legs began hurting, he sat back on his heels, keeping watch through the thin gaps between tree trunks. Settlers milled around, carrying pails of water, tools or leading animals on rope. Most of them looked more or less the same – dusty faced, washed out clothing...there was the governor and his daughter, dressed in their finery, and one pretty omega girl, dressed in an extravagant dress, that stormed out of Roxton’s house as if she was chasing the devil king himself. Other than that, nothing interesting happened. Moth watched the jailhouse – a shabby, small building near the Roxton’s house – for any movement, but it was dead silent. Inside was Dain.

Dain was his mate, but Moth still didn’t grasp what that meant – although he was starting to. It was like someone had tied a spider’s web around his pinkie finger and connected it to Dain. The string was small and insignificant and weak but Moth still felt the tug of it. He still felt the subtle pull towards Dain especially now, when he was in danger for helping Moth’s people. Crass Roxton desired the fire dancer, it was obvious. Moth wasn’t about to hang around until the Governor decided to lay his hands on him, especially not now, when he had vague grounds to. But he wouldn’t go without Dain.

Not because we’re mates, Moth told himself firmly as he played with the firepowder in the many satchels at his belt, but because he risked his life to help us.

As night fell, there was less movement across the town. A few people here and there, many heading for the tavern. Eventually, even Crass Roxton headed for it. Jana was with him, her arm tucked into his, her red gown sweeping the dusty, sand-ladden ground. She looked troubled. Once they disappeared from view, Moth relaxed. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. Not long now. The night was heavy, deep. Late autumn storms were coming. Moth made sure the path ahead was clear and snuck out from behind the mountain of trees. His legs were a little numb from all the sitting but he was light on his feet as he zapped across the dirt path to the jailhouse and around it, to the doors, which were sturdy and padlocked from the outside.

Perfect.

Moth dug around in one of his firepowder pouches, taking out a pinch. He’d been fascinated with making the powders for years, perfecting each one for his dances...and other uses. Cassius had called him an ‘alchemist’ – a word Moth did not know. Cass often compared him to the witches from Kai fairytales, though Moth didn’t consider himself powerful or magical – just smart. With a pinch of silver-shimmering powder between his fingertips, he leaned down to the sturdy looking lock and blew. The powder scattered from his fingertips into the padlock and Moth grabbed the two black, jagged stones that hung from his belt. He struck them expertly and sparks dispersed across the padlock. One caught the powder inside and, with a quiet pop, the powder exploded. It had taken years for Moth to make firepowder that didn’t make a deafening bang when it went off but it was worth it when he used it in his dances – and now for this. The smouldered padlock fell uselessly at Moth’s feet and the omega pushed open the doors easily.

Dain was standing, leaning against the wall near where a single candle flickered. Otherwise, the jailhouse was pitch black. He was deep in thought and he hadn’t noticed the soft pop of the lock being destroyed. For a moment, Moth just gazed at him. In the gentle light of the candle, Dain’s auburn curls looked like they were made of pure fire. His light brown skin glowed gold; the eye that didn’t have an eye-patch running through it looked pitch black rather than green. For just a moment, he looked ethereal.

Then his eyes shifted to the doors and he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw that someone was standing there.

‘’Gods, Moth!’’ he pressed a hand to his chest, where his heart had froze for a second, ‘’you scared me, I thought-‘’

‘’That I was Roxton?’’ Moth walked into the jailhouse, his bare feet light on the wooden floor.

‘’How did you get in here?’’ Dain asked in an urgent whisper.

‘’No time,’’ Moth just said simply. He grabbed Dain’s wrist, which sent an electric spark they both ignored up both their arms, and pulled the confused man out of the jailhouse.

Dain paled, ‘’wait, what-‘’

‘’You want to stay?’’ Moth jerked his chin at the jailhouse.

‘’I...well, no, but where are we-‘’

‘’No time,’’ Moth just said again. He glanced both ways on the path and then darted back towards his hiding place behind the woodstack, a confused, stumbling Dain in tow.

‘’Moth...Demothi, listen to me!’’ Dain hissed urgently, digging his feet into the sun-burnt grass as soon as they were safely hidden behind the wood. He yanked his hand out of Moth’s grip and grabbed his shoulders instead, making him halt, too. Dain’s eye softened as he took in Moth. Moth...his mate. He’d come back for him, for some reason. So Moth wasn’t inert to him afterall. He cared, even if just a little bit, ‘’if you’re caught with me, you’ll be in serious trouble. And I mean serious. Like-‘’

‘’Its fine,’’ Moth said and then, out of all the things he could have done, he just smiled. He made it all sound so simple that Dain relaxed despite himself. After hours of pacing the jailhouse, his heart racing and his mind reeling with all the things that could happen to him now that he was a traitor, he could finally breathe properly when Moth smiled at him, ‘’we won’t get caught,’’ he ducked down abruptly when a whistling, drunk settler stumbled from behind the nearest building. Dain quickly crouched by the omega and they fell into tense silence as the drunkard stopped by the pile of wood, pulled down his breeches and unceremoniously pissed onto the nearest log. Dain cringed but next to him, Moth slapped a hand across his mouth to stop an abrupt giggle. Despite the situation, despite the danger, Moth was as carefree as ever. It was as refreshing as it was worrying. The drunkard stumbled away and, when he was out of ear-shot, Moth whispered, ‘’your chief wants me for himself,’’ he wasn’t smiling anymore. His large, almond-shaped eyes were serious, ‘’I can’t stay with my tribe any longer.’’

Dain gasped softly, ‘’what?’’ he knew that Crass Roxton wasn’t good for Khandar but he hadn’t expected him to chase Moth out of his home.

‘’He will find me there,’’ Moth said, ‘’for now, I will leave. My chief has told me too,’’ his dark eyes flicked to Dain and in them, swam confusion, ‘’for some reason, I couldn’t leave you behind.’’

Grasped by sudden fondness, Dain reached out and cupped Moth’s face in his hand, ‘’it’s because we’re mates,’’ he murmured.

But Dain shook his head, standing. He made sure no one was around, ‘’I don’t believe that everything I feel and everything I decide to do comes down to being ‘mates’ – whatever that means,’’ he extended his hand down to a surprised Dain, ‘’come on,’’

Dain took his hand and, together, they slipped away and into the Tetawken Forest.

*~*~*

Faelan woke up with a mouth full of foul-tasting sea-salt and a headache that felt like pebbles rattling inside his skull.

Grunting, he sat up, blinking in the bright, cold afternoon light that fell through the windows.

Windows!?

Fae’s eyes widened as he looked around wildly. Where the hell was he? Where was the rest of the Moonkiller’s crew? Where...where was Thorn? He jumped off the bed, his first instinct being finding a weapon but as he turned around frantically, he could see nothing that could be used as one. He was in an unfamiliar room – a female’s, it seemed. He’d been lying on a small bed with furs thrown atop, next to a wooden nightstand that held a cup of water and nothing else. There was a fire buzzing in the fireplace, keeping the room warm, but no fire poker. There were some shelves running along the wall holding a few books and trinkets, a hairbrush and a few ribbons but nothing that was even remotely sharp. The windows had beautiful curtains, stitched with little suns. In fact, the whole room was beautiful. It was painted white – the walls and the furniture, even the bed – and painted with gorgeous patterns and flowers. Things Fae had never seen before. The door was outlined by a stunning pattern of sea waves that instantly reminded Fae of the shipwreck. Desperate and panicking, he crashed out of the pretty room, not thinking about where he was going. He flew straight into the living space of the building, only then realising he was barefoot and in unfamiliar clothes – a billowing white shirt, far too big, and white pants cuffed at the knees. His feet were bare.

The room was mostly empty –white and painted. There was another fireplace, much larger, with a pot of something that smelled heavenly bubbling atop. There was only one person here – a pale haired boy of maybe eleven. He was sitting at the huge wooden table, feet dangling off the bench and spoon full of stew frozen half-way to his mouth as he stared, wide-eyed, at Faelan. Fae, caught unawares, froze and stared back. Then, so loudly and suddenly that Fae flinched, the little boy yelled, ‘’mama! He’s awake!’’

The window here was open, letting in a cool but refreshing breeze. The doors opened a moment later and a beaming middle-aged woman, pale haired like the little boy, walked in. She was beaming and she held a basket of washing against her hip. Her clothes were strange – a brown leather dress to her ankles, boots, a long orange belt, leather gloves to her forearms and a brown throw-over. White-bead necklaces hung from her neck, ‘’ah, how lovely. We were scared you might die in your sleep,’’ she said joyfully.

Fae blinked, his mind sloggy, ‘’where...am I?’’ his voice was hoarse, probably from all the salt water he’d swallowed.

The woman’s smile turned sympathetic. She set her washing down near the fire, ‘’Steenie, do the washing, will ya?’’

Steenie – the boy eating the stew – pulled a face, ‘’I don’t wanna! Tell Sieger to do it!’’

His mother cut him a look, ‘’don’t back-talk me unless you want to be back-handed,’’ she said lightly. The boy rolled his eyes and went back to his stew. Meanwhile, the woman took Fae’s hand and led him over with unexplainable gentleness towards the doors. Fae was stunned, ‘’poor dear, you must be awfully confused. I’ll explain everything, don’t you worry. Here, wear these shoes for now. Oh, and here’s a cape!’’

A moment later they were walking outside, Fae wearing a huge, fur cape and boots that were a little too big. He blinked in the dazzling, cold sunlight as they stepped outside. The first thing he noticed was snow. It was everywhere, which meant he was still in Arnheim. The second thing he noticed were the houses – pretty, stout, made of white stone or white-painted wood, with oval windows and sweet wooden fences. They were all painted with colourful flowers, stars, sea-shells...some even had full landscapes of the ocean or forests painted on them. It was so stunning Fae was speechless for a moment. The woman still held his hand and she led him alongside her gently through the small town, ‘’my name is Judita. Do you remember yours?’’

‘’Yes. Of course,’’ Faelan remembered that sometimes, after shipwrecks, people lost their memories, but his were intact. He decided it was better not to tell the stranger he was the Crown Prince – or had been the Crown Prince – of Arnheim, ‘’it’s Fae.’’

‘’Fae? How sweet,’’ Judita said cheerfully, watching Fae looked around with wide eyes. Despite his wonder, he looked troubled. She smiled knowingly, ‘’well? Are you going to ask about him?’’

‘’Huh? About who?’’ Fae said quickly, but he bristled. When Judita just laughed, he sighed, ‘’is...is Thorn alright?’’

Judita nodded, ‘’he woke up before you,’’ she said, as they reached the end of a row of houses. This one was a bit more beat up but painted nonetheless and when they walked in, Faelan realised it was a carpenter’s work room. A man well into his seventies was sharpening tools. His golden beard was braided. Behind him, talking excitedly, were Thorn and a young male omega with hair to his ass. He wore light brown pants and a white tunic that fell to the backs of his knees, stitched with red patterns at the hem. He had a dagger at his belt and a fur scarf of sorts around his neck. A single white-bead earring hung from his ear. The older man was dressed strangely, too – a red shirt and billowing dark pants cuffed at his ankles; a black leather overcoat with beaded belts cutting across the middle; red fingerless gloves and beads in his beard...Fae had never seen clothes like these.

When he walked in, all three men looked up. The old man gave a short, disgruntled grunt. The omega boy’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. But it was Thorn that Fae looked towards, automatically. He was dressed in those unfamiliar, embroidered clothes, too. They suited him. When their eyes met, Thorn’s eyes softened. He looked relieved, ‘’Fae. You’re awake.’’

‘’You’ve been unconscious for three days,’’ the omega boy said.

Faelan was suddenly gripped with emotion. He realised that they truly could have died. Both of them. And then he thought back to the crew of the ship and his cousins on it. He removed all emotion from his face and instead asked sternly, ‘’did anyone else make it?’’ he’d be damned if he let these strangers see his weaknesses.

Thorn bit the inside of his cheek, his blue eyes looking down at his borrowed boots, ‘’I don’t know. No one else made it to Olwen, but we drifted further away from the ship than anyone else.’’

Fae felt the blunt pain of grief bite into his heart. Aira and Saromír...no, he didn’t believe they were dead. They’d gone through worse. They were all children of the war-camps; there was no way a rocky voyage could have killed any of them. Fae had to have faith; he couldn’t break down. He had to be tough, like he’d been taught. He quickly asked the first question that pushed itself onto his tongue to distract himself, ‘’Olwen?’’

‘’That’s where we are,’’ Judita said brightly, ‘’this here is my father, Gaufrid Chariovalda, the chief of Olwen,’’ she gestured to the old man, who just grunted again, ‘’and that’s my other son, Sieger Chariovalda,’’ the omega gave him a small wave.

‘’Olwen...’’ Fae’s brows furrowed, ‘’we’re in Yame, then?’’

‘’It’s not Yame no more,’’ Gaufrid grunted, sharpening a long, serrated knife.

‘’Oh, stop it, pa,’’ Judita said.

‘’What?’’ Gaufrid gave her a grim look, ‘’you always tell me off for calling it Yame,’’ he imitated a feminine voice as he said, ‘’it’s not Yame anymore, pa, stop saying that, you’re gonna bring us a world of trouble’’ Sieger sniggered as Judita scowled.

‘’That’s because calling it Yame will get you in trouble,’’ she looked to Fae apologetically, ‘’the King of Arnheim doesn’t like to be reminded that we were once Yame, even though he has a Yamese husband.’’

Yame...Fae touched one of the painted walls in wonder. His father, Airen, was from here. Yame had been his home once...half of the blood that ran through Faelan’s veins was Yamese. These people were his and in his moment of grave danger, the seas had carried him here, ‘’how did we even get here?’’ it was hard to swallow, hard to look at anyone.

Judita clapped her hands together, ‘’oh, it’s quite the tale! Sieger was doing the fishing runs down the coast when he came upon you two,’’ Fae looked up at Thorn just as the prince glanced away and flushed, ‘’you were tied together with rope even when the sea spat you out! It must be fate!’’

Thorn cleared his throat awkwardly while Faelan glanced away. He remembered their conversation from right before the storm started...

I don’t want to be married to someone who doesn’t want me!

Fae closed his eyes briefly, feeling his headache intensify. He and Thorn weren’t on good terms. It was his engagement to Thorn, being promised to him like some lowborn princess, that had led to Faelan never getting to sit on the throne that was rightfully his. He had to remember that. He quickly turned to Judita, ‘’would you mind finding someone who would deliver a letter to the nearest city?’’

‘’Silvestrum is nearest, but that’s a few days ride from here,’’ Judita said, surprised, ‘’you have family there?’’

‘’No, but there will be someone there who will get the letter the rest of the way to my family,’’ he didn’t look at Thorn as he said, ‘’we must acquire a ship as quickly as possible. We have somewhere we have to be.’’

*~*~*

After Dain’s arrest things felt...tense in New Vallarta. When Jhaan had first come to Khandar three years prior, it had been all about building houses and dealing with the new climate. Now...now things were like back in Khandar. Politics, scheming, impending war...Jhaan hated it. It made him think of his family. Of their deaths.

The night of Dain’s arrest, Jhaan sat in the tavern, brooding in the shadows cast by the melting candles. He barely knew Dain but the older man had always made an effort to talk to Jhaan, at least in the short time he’d been in Khandar. What would happen to him? Would he be executed, made an example of...? Jhaan sighed, staring at his ale. For the first time in a long, long while, he had no desire to drink. Instead, his mind kept flicking back to Arthion. He was at home, waiting, probably, so why was Jhaan stewing here? Arthion had a soft body and an eager mouth and...alright, it wasn’t just that. Jhaan had to admit that he liked Arthion, even if his husband was still a complete mystery to him. Perhaps it was time to start getting to know him a bit better, instead of drinking himself stupid and hoping that, this time, it would heal the hole in his heart...

Jhaan stood just as Jasim Shaed sat down opposite him on the empty tavern bench. Somehow, everything – the flickering candles, the laughter from the tables behind Jhaan, the shouts...it all seemed to slow as Shaed said, ‘’I’ve sent that letter.’’

Jhaan sat back down heavily onto the bench. Unrest stirred in his heart but he ignored it, ‘’what letter?’’

‘’The one I told you I’d send,’’ Shaed looked calm. No, rather, he looked determined. Like he knew something and just needed proof, ‘’it sailed a few days back with the ship back to Kainan. When the next ship arrives, it will bear not only soldiers, but also a reply. The reply will tell us who Arthion Fade really is-‘’

‘’I don’t care,’’ Jhaan said sharply. He remembered how frightened Arthion had seemed when they’d last made love. Had Shaed talked to him, too? Had he scared him? Jhaan’s eyes darkened as he glared daggers at the former guard, ‘’and I told you. It’s Arthion Leake now.’’

Noticing Jhaan’s murderous, Shaed stiffened, ‘’don’t you care about whether your husband is lying to you?’’ he asked, teeth gritted.

‘’I do,’’ Jhaan stood, staring Shaed down, ‘’but I know Arthion isn’t lying to me. I don’t care if he’s a little strange; I have all the answers I need already,’’ he put his hands on the table and leaned in, towering over Shaed who looked taken aback. Jhaan was hot-headed and he loved a good fight, but he knew the moment he put his hands on Jasim Shaed, he’d pummel him halfway to death, ‘’stay away from Arthion from now on.’’

Whether a blessing or a curse, Khalil Vult appeared at the table. The red-haired soldier looked between the two men, warning shining in his eyes, ‘’is there a problem?’’

Jhaan turned his glare on Khalil, remembering how friendly he’d been with Arthion. He gritted his teeth, wanting nothing more than to tell the guard to stay away from his husband, too. Instead, he abandoned his drink and left the tavern in a huff. Khalil watched him go, surprised, which gave Jasim a moment to compose himself.

Eventually, Khalil just sighed and shook his head before pointing to Jhaan’s forlorn drink as he slid into the bench opposite Jasim, ‘’this taken?’’

*~*~*

Kanalei was a sight for sore eyes after the gloominess of Kingsbridge and the miles of forest the Witchland Academy students had cleared. As they rode into Kanalei, it became apparent that they had left Solin behind and had entered Koln. Koln, which was known for its vibrant parties, culture and an easy lifestyle. After the witch-hunts, it had rebuilt the fastest, possibly thanks to their King, Orin Eiris, who was as gorgeous as he was brave. His charm and optimism motivated the people of Koln and now the kingdom flourished under him and his two consorts. The people were cheerfully looking forward to when Crown Princess Branwen would take over the throne and further her fathers’ work.

Kanalei was a small city but it was a splash of colour. The people seemed to be preparing for the autumnal celebrations of the goddess Jora. There were flags and lampions hanging between the rooftops of delightful little houses with slanted roofs and circular windows; trees and plants erupted everywhere, crawling up walls and even growing through holes in the rooftops that nobody seemed to mind. The worn cobblestone beneath the horses’ feet spoke of decades of people that had walked through the square, ‘’I love this,’’ Orland proclaimed, smiling surprisingly widely even with Calryn resting his chin on his shoulder and looking around, disinterested, as they rode through the square, ‘’I love this, I love this, I _love_ this. Can we stay here forever?’’

Aliza let go of the reins on her horse with one hand, raising it above her head. Sunshine spilled through the gaps between her fingers. It was so warm here. She kind of wished they could stay here, too. This expedition was already proving to be exhausting and her vision made her more and more worried with each passing hour, ‘’I doubt the boy we’re looking for is here,’’ she remarked finally.

‘’I hate this mission,’’ Cal complained, ‘’I’m so tired...’’

Diya threw his head back and laughed, his silver curls spilling from his dark forehead. The golden beads he wore woven through them glinted in the sun, ‘’not enough mushrooms, dear friend?’’ 

‘’Not enough of anything,’’ Cal sulked. Then, unexpectedly, he said, ‘’Orlie, I’m hungry. Feed me,’’ and then licked behind his ear.

Orland shrieked, shuddering so hard he nearly fell off his horse, ‘’GET THIS MAN OFF ME!’’

‘’We should come here for our graduation trip,’’ Cal mused. He didn’t even have the preservation instinct to get his chin off Orland’s shoulder.

‘’I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE WITH YOU!’’ the wind Elementalist yelled, looking like he wanted to kick his horse-riding partner off.

To everyone’s surprise, Ravor laughed, warm and unreserved. Dorn, who had been keeping himself as compact as possible behind him on their horse, mostly to keep Aliza’s attention and wrath off of himself, looked up at the back of Ravor’s head, stunned. It had been such a warm, free sound...Dorn wished he’d seen Ravor’s face when he laughed. The Fae Seer witch barely ever even cracked a smile.

‘’I know a tavern just outside of city limits,’’ Taryn said shyly. She’d long since gathered the courage to loop her arms around Liz’s waist so she wouldn’t fall off their horse and now she loosely kept them there. It had taken Dorn a good hour to get over his shock at the fact that his older sister didn’t seem to mind the touch, ‘’it’s run by my aunt.’’

‘’Will she give us a discount?’’ Diya asked, chipper. Aliza’s payment for his services didn’t include accommodation, apparently.

‘’She better,’’ Liz said with a threatening edge.

Taryn half-scowled. She was too _nice_ for an actual scowl, ‘’stop it.’’

Aliza looked over her shoulder, giving Taryn a smirk, ‘’relax, Halfling. I’m only teasing,’’ she flicked the reins, ‘’we’ll lead the way!’’

The others filed into line behind her. Dorn and Ravor were at the back. Dorn held to Ravor’s sides as lightly as he could. The faerie witch scared him halfway to death but there was also something very enticing about him. Either way, one wrong move would end in Dorn being thrown off the horse, probably. As if sensing his uneasy, Ravor glanced over his shoulder at his short companion. His navy ponytail spilled over his white shirt like a dark waterfall, ‘’you’ve been awfully quiet. You still alive back there?’’

‘’B-breathing, as far as I can tell,’’ Dorn replied, feeling his cheeks flush. He instantly felt stupid. What was that reaction over something as simple as Ravor looking at him!? Ravor’s two-coloured orange eyes flicked over Dorn’s face, noting the blush, before he looked back ahead without another comment.

Dorn figured that he wouldn’t say anything else but after a moment, he added, ‘’you can hold on a little better. I don’t bite.’’

The way he said it was almost like he’d been gathering the courage to push the words out. Or maybe he’d been trying to force himself to be nice to Dorn? The witchling glanced at the tips of Ravor’s pointy ears but his skin was far too dark to be able to decipher if he was blushing or not. Shyly, Dorn looped his arms around Ravor’s waist properly.

Kanalei wasn’t big and so getting out of it didn’t take long. Within the hour, the four horses were clopping over to a lonely looking inn, in the middle of nowhere. It sat in a field, near some cross-roads, and the Moher Mountains rose up in the distance behind it in three powerful peaks. As they approached, Aliza read the sign – _The Lone Mountain_. It wasn’t a small tavern by any means – it looked like it had maybe two dozen rooms, a spacious tavern on the ground floor and even some horse stables, ‘’your aunt works here?’’ Aliza asked when she and her companions jumped off their horses in the half-full stable. Taryn hopped down and landed clumsily, stumbling. Aliza grabbed her arm and steadied her.

‘’Yes,’’ the half-fae gave Aliza a sheepish grin in thanks and dusted her cape after a few days riding, ‘’she owns the place. She’s not blood, but she’s family,’’ she jerked her chin at the _Lone Mountain_ fondly, ‘’my grandmother used to work here. It’s where she met her wife.’’

Aliza whistled, low, ‘’old place,’’ she said.

Dorn approached, taking his best friend’s hand, ‘’shall we get a room together?’’

‘’I think we should stick to horse riding partners,’’ Diya said brightly.

‘’Just cause you want to have a room to yourself,’’ Aliza said, narrowing her eyes.

‘’I agree with Diya!’’ Cal announced, chipper again. He gave Orland a dopey smile and the Elementalist just glared at him, rubbing where he’d been licked.

Aliza glared at Cal, ‘’that’s just because you want to...oh, never mind!’’ she threw her arms in the air, perplexed, and turned towards the entrance to the inn, ‘’let’s just go. Horse riding partners it is,’’ she didn’t miss the terrified glance her little brother stole towards Ravor, who just kissed his teeth. She sighed and stopped, ‘’Dorn, if you want, we can get a room together.’’

If possible, Dorn looked even more scared, ‘’no! Its fine!’’ he squeaked.

Aliza felt a stirring of guilt in her stomach. She remembered her vision, her brother on the floor...she knew she wasn’t the best sister, but... she swallowed down her guilt and shrugged, ‘’suit yourself.’’

They entered the tavern which, despite being in the middle of nowhere, was bustling with life. There were travellers from all over getting drinks and food as they chatted and laughed amongst themselves. There was an ancient woman in a chair in the corner overseeing everything with a pleased look on her face. She had a quilt thrown over her legs and was nodding, looking around fondly with half-seeing eyes. Taryn went to her immediately, ‘’aunt Elspeth!’’

The old woman reached out her shrivelled hands, ‘’Taryn, darling, is that you?’’

Taryn grasped Elspeth’s hands, ‘’hello, aunt. It’s good to see you.’’

‘’Oh, my dear, it is you,’’ Elspeth beamed, then soured, ‘’when is Amaria going to visit me, hm? She’s not still frolicking with that bandit girl, Elysia, is she?’’

Taryn chuckled, ‘’I think they’re a bit old for frolicking now, aunt.’’

‘’Ah, yes,’’ Elspeth peered at Taryn and smiled again, ‘’my Amaria was about your age when she sang here, in our tavern. Why don’t you sing for us, dear?’’

‘’Gladly, aunt, but maybe later?’’ Taryn said gently, ‘’my friends and I were hoping you’d have some rooms available?’’

‘’For you, always,’’ her aunt patted her hand fondly, ‘’doubling up?’’

‘’Yes, whatever is the least trouble.’’

A few moments later they were making their way up old wooden stairs to the second floor. They got four rooms near the end. Diya gave them all a wide grin and, even though it was only late afternoon, proclaimed, ‘’I’m going to sleep like the dead. Don’t wake me unless you want to see my Cana Kaale training first hand!’’ and then he disappeared into his room.

‘’Prick,’’ Liz grumbled, still disgruntled at Diya getting not only his own horse but also his own room. Still, at least they didn’t have to pay thanks to aunt Elspeth.

They all went to their rooms but then quickly ventured out again. Ravor said he was going to practice opening his doors, though it was clear he just didn’t want to be alone in an enclosed space with Dorn. Calryn and Orland said they were going to grab a bite downstairs. Aliza decided to get a drink and followed them. They took a table near the corner. The boys dug into their stew while Aliza downed half a jug of ale in one go. She set it down, relieved for the reprieve the cold beverage provided after days of rough travel. She looked up when a merry tune was struck unexpectedly by a young boy no older than fourteen with a fiddle. Her eyes widened as she watched Taryn, who had appeared out of nowhere, get onto the counter smoothly. Her feet were bare and her smile was wide.

And then she started singing.

Even Cal put down his spoon and stopped stuffing his face to listen. Taryn’s voice was enchanting and it had the attention of everyone in the tavern – even the negative attention. Liz spotted a few travellers who gave Taryn’s pointed ears and silver-white hair loathing looks. Even after the witch-hunts, some hunter-sympathisers remained and even more than a few who had a grudge against the witches for the whole ordeal. Liz looked back to Taryn. She was dancing a merry jig and the tavern was clapping for her, though the few glares felt like small fires that had been started across the tavern. Liz tried to ignore them, ‘’you’re staring,’’ Orland remarked casually.

Liz pulled her eyes away from Taryn with some effort and took a swig of her ale, ‘’yeah, well, my brother has some pretty friends. It’s a shame he’s so...’’ she gestured to her face, ‘’yeesh.’’

‘’Hey, he’s pretty cute,’’ Cal said with a lazy grin.

‘’Yeah, he’s not bad,’’ Orland agreed.

Liz wrinkled her nose, ‘’really? You think so?’’

‘’He’d be even better if he let me dye his hair,’’ Cal added.

Liz snorted, ruffling his purple-blue locks roughly, ‘’yeah, right,’’ she glanced back across the tavern. The few disgruntled customers were whispering to each other now, casting Taryn looks. Liz’s smile disappeared. Taryn finished up her performance and bowed; automatically, Aliza got up.

‘’What are you doing?’’ Orland said. He, too, had glanced around the tavern and spotted the looks the customers gave the half-faerie witch, ‘’surely you’re not going to fight all of them.’’

‘’No, but I’m going to protect my team members,’’ Liz said sharply and walked over to Taryn. The girl was beaming, flushed and pretty. Liz extended out a hand to her and Taryn looked down at her, surprised. Slowly, she put her hand in Aliza’s and let the older witch help her down from the counter. As she did so, Aliza casually flung back her cape, revealing the two daggers at her belt. She turned her head just so, glaring at those who had been giving Taryn unpleasant looks. They quickly looked away. Liz took hold of Taryn’s hand better and pulled her over to their table, ‘’come, eat something.’’

They sat at the table for a few hours, eating and drinking. After a mug of ale, Taryn finally relaxed, openly joking around with the boys and laughing at their bickering. Aliza found herself just taking a breather after an exhausting few days. Her eyes lingered on Taryn.

When night fell, they all decided to crash in before an early morning start.

In their simple, single-bed room, the girls got ready for bed. They stripped down to their shirts and undergarments. Aliza pulled out her comb from her satchel and, before Taryn could get into bed, she extended it out to her, ‘’do my hair for me,’’ she said. It sounded like an order and Taryn didn’t dare refuse.

Aliza unceremoniously sat at the foot of the bed, sprawling herself on the floor, her head between Taryn’s legs. The fae-witch tugged gently on the ribbon at the base of Liz’s braid, ‘’u-um...do I just...?’’

‘’Just brush it,’’ Aliza said mildly, rubbing her face. She was so tired... her vision wasn’t letting her rest and she was wondering if maybe they should turn back, despite what the vision said...

Taryn undid the ribbon and, with impossibly gentle fingers, un-plaited Aliza’s braid till her hair fell in loose, ginger waves down her back. She ran the comb through them softly and Aliza’s eyes fluttered shut. They fell into a rhythm and Aliza found that she didn’t want Taryn to stop. She was disappointed when Taryn stopped combing and said, ‘’all done.’’

‘’Thanks,’’ Aliza got off the floor and took the comb from Taryn. Then, before the younger girl could move, Aliza sat behind her on the bed and sank the comb into her pixie-short, silver-white hair.

‘’O-oh,’’ Taryn stuttered, her brown face growing hot.

‘’Just relax,’’ Aliza said. She sounded uncharacteristically...nice, and so Taryn relaxed. After a while, she leaned into Aliza’s hand. She was too tired to even realise when she started nuzzling into it, like a kitten, but Liz did notice, and she smiled, ‘’all done,’’ she said eventually, copying Taryn, her voice soft.

They blew out their candles and crawled into bed. Taryn glanced at Aliza as she settled. She looked different with her hair loose, so unguarded and sleepy, ‘’goodnight,’’ Taryn whispered. For some reason, she wanted to hear Aliza’s voice, just once more...

‘’Night,’’ Aliza said, closing her eyes, and Taryn smiled.

*~*~*

Dorn felt like his heart was going to jump right out of his chest and run for the hills as he and Ravor got ready for sleep.

The room was small and bare; there was only one bed and Dorn was considering just sleeping on the hard, wood floor. Ravor was ignoring him completely, as if he was a spider in the ceiling corner. He went about the room, stripping down just his pants. None of them brought night-clothes with them, just a second set of travel clothes. Dorn sat on the edge of the bed, taking his time to take off his cloak and trying not to stare at Ravor’s perfectly sculpted, dark brown chest, ‘’I’m blowing out the candles,’’ the hedge witch said.

‘’A-alright,’’ Dorn stammered. He took his circular glasses off his nose and set them on the floor carefully, atop his folded cape. Ravor clicked his fingers and the candles all went out. In the old days, witches had their own powers and that was that – you had your hell witches, a whole different type of entity, that held the powers of hellish realms within their grasps; the warrior witches, considered the princes and princesses of Mystic, who could materialise and use magnificent weapons – in magical realms, such as Mystic and now the Witchlands, their powers were almost infinite but outside, they were limited; then there were fae witches, faeries that lived in the fae forest of Mystic, mysterious and elusive, sprouting horns, wings and gods knows what, answering to Queen Nara and the wild hunt; then seer witches and hedge witches – the former could see visions and, with years of practice, read minds; the latter could walk through ‘doors’ into half-realms, using them for teleportation – the more advanced ones could even create these doors themselves; then, Elementalist, holding powers of the elements and shape-shifters who could mould their body into that of a single animal; at the very bottom were witchlings like Dorn, with no power to do anything beyond a few tricks, and five marks on their bodies for an ancient, terrible power that dwelled within them and could only be used until the marks disappeared. It had been a simple, clean hierarchy.

But now, things were changing. The Academy taught all their witches various things; blowing out and lighting candles was one of the very basic ones and everyone, from fae witches to witchlings, could usually perform such a simple spell.

Dorn could not.

Dorn was possibly the weakest witchling in history, even though his parents were Rain Farlane, a powerful warrior witch, and Fynn Farlane, a shape-shifter that had fought in the Witch-hunter wars. Aliza was beautiful and smart enough to be their daughter, but Dorn wasn’t worthy of it. That’s what he thought, anyway.

He looked away, feeling ashamed of his powerlessness as always, and quickly lay down, curling in on himself under the cotton blanket on the bed. Ravor stood at the foot of the bed for a moment, in the dark, chewing his full bottom lip. He ran his hand through his unbound navy hair that fell to his shoulders, his burnt-orange eyes scanning the bed as if he was considering the floor, too. Finally, thought, he crawled onto the bed and lay down on his stomach, instantly closing his eyes. Dorn peeked at him from under ginger lashes. He slept on his stomach so he wouldn’t crush his wings, which were tightly pressed against his back. But, as Ravor relaxed and his breathing evened out, his wings slumped. And then, as if by themselves, they stretched out. His left wing draped off the side of the bed like a feathered blanket; his right was thrown over Dorn. The witchling jumped, surprised, when he suddenly found himself cocooned in a mass of dark feathers. Dorn held his breath, looking at Ravor’s face, but he seemed asleep. His heart stirred and Dorn reached out, brushing a shy finger against Ravor’s perfect cheek. He snatched his hand away almost immediately, hand pounding, but Ravor didn’t move.

Dorn bit his lip and, slowly, as if to not disturb the air itself, reached up and brushed his hand over the dark wing cocooning him. Ravor’s feathers were soft and the wing itself felt so strong, like it could carry a thousand people...

‘’I thought I told you not to touch me without permission,’’ Ravor said without opening his eyes.

Dorn yelped and snatched his hand back, ‘’y-you’re touching me without permission,’’ he blurted.

Ravor opened his eyes then. They seemed to glow like fire in the darkness. Slowly, he shifted onto his side, dragging his wing away from Dorn and folding it over himself instead. Dorn instantly missed its warmth and wished he hadn’t said anything. He dropped his eyes to his hands, curled by his chest, but Ravor didn’t yell at him. He seemed too sleepy for that. He just sighed softly and closed his eyes again. Dorn realised then that Ravor had been awake enough to know he’d stretched his wing out over Dorn, and to not care, ‘’Ravor?’’ Dorn asked shyly.

‘’What?’’ Ravor grunted, eyes closed.

‘’Where are you from?’’

Ravor sighed again, sounding a little more irritated this time, but said, ‘’Helvaetis, like all dark faeries.’’

‘’The realm that Professor Sarya is Queen in?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Ravor said, then added, ‘’but I didn’t grow up there. I was sent to Cana Kaale to train with the assassins, like a lot of other witch children. That’s how I know Diya.’’

‘’But you’re only nineteen, right?’’ Dorn asked quietly.

‘’Yeah.’’

‘’Are you immortal?’’

Ravor opened his eyes. Dorn couldn’t decipher the look in them, ‘’a sword will kill me, just like anyone else.’’

‘’Yes, but do you age?’’ Dorn pressed. This was likely the first and last time Ravor would so openly talk about himself.

‘’No,’’ Ravor said finally, ‘’I don’t age.’’

‘’Then, what about when you get married-‘’

Ravor scowled and rolled over, putting his wings between himself and Dorn, ‘’I don’t really feel like talking about my life story with you, brat.’’

Dorn couldn’t help but smile a little, ‘’you already did, though.’’

Ravor just kissed his teeth and settled down for sleep.

*~*~*

*

*

*

_YOU DIE TODAY!_

_Soldiers, of ice and fire and water and earth._

_Ravor, arms raised against a dark shadow. A cruel shadow._

_People falling from the skies, wingless. Powerless._

_A beast in the sky._

_Armies, roaring. Fire and metal._

_The Earth breaking apart._

_Ravor, crumpled against a tree._

_Calryn, his side dark with blood seeping from between his fingers._

_Ships on the ocean swallowed by water._

_Dorn, hanging in the air._

_His breath squeezed from his lungs._

_‘’You need him,’’ says the voice, ‘’you can’t turn back now.’’_

_*_

_*_

_*_

_*_

_*_

Aliza sat up sharply in bed, breathing so hard she thought she might pass out. Her hair hung in her face, which was damp with sweat. Her hand fisted in her shirt, where her heart hammered at her chest like a thousand war drums. The voice of her vision echoed in her head.

_‘’You need him...’’_

Dorn.

Aliza closed her eyes against the vision of her little brother being strangled to death but it was still there, burned into the back of her eyelids. She couldn’t breathe now, as if she was the one being strangled.

‘’Aliza?’’ Taryn sat up and Liz felt her gentle hand on her shoulder, ‘’are you alright?’’

‘’Just...just a bad dream,’’ Liz panted out. She forced herself to take a big, long inhale and then exhaled it slowly. She looked up at the ceiling.

 _Gods, I beg you,_ she prayed in her mind, _don’t let me lead them into certain death._

That voice...

_You can’t turn back now..._

Aliza closed her eyes again and Taryn stroked her arm gently. A moment later, the doors burst open. Both girls jumped and Aliza quickly composed herself, shifting away from Taryn, but it was only Orland. A very pissed-off Orland, his mousy hair dishevelled, his pillow tucked under his arm, ‘’I’m sleeping here,’’ he proclaimed, dumping the pillow on the ground and grabbing Taryn’s cloak from the floor, ‘’Cal won’t keep his stupid hands off me,’’ he grumbled, covering himself with the cloak.

Aliza exhaled and dumped herself back onto the bed, closing her eyes. She knew she wouldn’t sleep.

*~*~*

Demothi took Dain further inland than Dain or any other settler had ever gone. They slipped between Baglan and the Tetawken forest, through a rocky canyon. They walked through what Moth said was Waphani. A long, long time ago, it was the city of the Tetawken tribe, before it waged war on the other three tribes and was decimated. Those who were not killed in battle left Mishawka; some still lived alone in the wild but most had married into other tribes. Now, nothing remained of the Tetawken forest tribe and Waphani was nothing but a grassy plain. No sign of tents or houses anywhere, though you could feel the blood that had seeped into the ground here. Dain was relieved when they left Waphani behind.

Mishawka, the Hasinai river tribe city, was surrounded by rocky outcrops of mountains. It was where Moth headed. Dawn was approaching by the time Dain, exhausted, managed to climb half-way one of the mountains. The mountain was steep and rocky. Dain’s hands were covered in cuts from the rough climb. He was too exhausted to even be impressed when he dumped himself in the cave that Moth waited in. The cave was set in the mountain, the mouth opening up onto the sharp drop, but it faced towards Mishawka and away from Baglan. Dain dumped himself onto his back in the dark caves while Moth skittered around. He pulled a few loose rocks from the back of the cave and set them in a circle near the entrance. He sprinkled a small copse of one of his firepowders within. Dain sat up cautiously, not wanting the whole thing to explode and the cave to come down on top of their heads, but Moth just casually produced two dark rocks tied together with string and struck them. A spark hit the copse and it ignited. Instead of exploding, it blazed and then settled into a tiny bonfire. Khandar was as hot as ever; they didn’t need warmth, but the firepowder provided some much-needed light.

Dain stayed sitting up, ‘’where are we?’’ he asked finally.

Moth glanced up at him and smiled, despite all the trouble Dain had caused, ‘’caves. Your good eye works, no?’’

Seeing Moth so calm calmed Dain down, too. He sat up properly, crossing his legs, keeping his distance. It had been a long time since he’d been alone with Moth, ‘’you didn’t have to save me, Demothi,’’ he said quietly, ‘’I meant it when I said it would get you in trouble.’’

‘’I’m already in trouble,’’ Moth said calmly, ‘’because your chief is trouble.’’

Now that they weren’t running for their lives, Dain had time to think about it all. He was a calm, non-confrontational man but he felt the urge to march back to New Vallarta and strangle Roxton himself as he said, ‘’our governor expressed desire in you?’’

‘’He said he wants me,’’ Moth said bluntly and that feeling inside Dain surged. Protectiveness. And anger. His mate met his eyes across the cave, ‘’I don’t think he cares what I have to say about it.’’

Dain’s hands fisted in his lap, ‘’I won’t let him hurt you,’’ he said, eyes intense.

Moth just snorted, ‘’I won’t let him hurt _you_ ,’’ he said with a chuckle and Dain deflated a little. Right. So far, he’d done nothing but get Moth in trouble.

Satisfied with his fire, Moth got up, ‘’wait here,’’ he said.

‘’Where are you going?’’ Dain asked, instantly alert.

‘’Down the mountain,’’ Moth said casually, shrugging.

Dain’s eyes widened, ‘’but-‘’

‘’Calm down,’’ Moth chuckled, ‘’stay here. You’re tired,’’ he said and slipped out of the cave before Dain could stop him.

The alpha sat in the cave, playing with tiny pebbles on the stone ground and trying not to be too anxious about Moth. Crass Roxton would be looking for him soon. It wasn’t smart to go out there but Dain knew that short of pinning him to the wall, there was nothing he could do to stop Moth. The native came back half an hour later. He hadn’t even broken a sweat. He’d taken off his belt and fastened it around his chest, keeping at least three dozen long branches sprouting soft-looking leaves against his back, ‘’bed,’’ Moth said proudly when Dain just stared. He undid his belt and dropped the leaves on the ground, sitting down to pluck the leaves off. Wanting to feel useful, Dain joined him.

When the horizon began to turn pink and gold, the two of them had a nest of soft leaves to lay down in, which they promptly did, fatigue tugging at both of them. Dain didn’t even have the energy to think about how intimate that was until he was laying down opposite Moth and the omega stared at him with big, round, brown eyes, ‘’good night,’’ Dain said, his throat dry. He wanted to reach out and brush Moth’s hair out of his face or something, but he figured one settler pining for him was enough for today.

‘’Good night,’’ Moth said calmly, clearly unaware of Dain’s feelings – and clearly not harbouring any of his own.

They fell asleep side by side as the sun rose over Khandar.

*~*~*

‘’Hello, dear husband,’’ Azariah purred, sweeping into Nym’s room. He set his horned helmet on the windowsill looking out over the mountain drop and glanced at Nym, who sat tensely on the edge of the bed. Nym’s eyes flicked to Aza, nervous. Like his friends advised, tonight he’d follow Aza out of the caves and find out what his husband was keeping from him. What dirty secret kept him from Nym’s bed every night, even if…even if Nym would regret knowing. Because it could be a lover or just the fact that Aza actually didn’t like Nym one bit and Nym was scared it would hurt. When he didn’t reply to his greeting, Azariah quirked a pale blond eyebrow, ‘’don’t tell me you’re still mad about last time.’’

‘’No,’’ Nym snapped out of it, pulling his white tunic over his head and grabbing his belt. He glanced at Aza again, just as the Kåvieh-Dah shrugged off his strange, loose, short-sleeved tunic off. The sleeves were short and the nights were cold – his pale arms were goose-bumped, ‘’it’s nothing.’’

‘’Good,’’ Aza came over and pushed Nym down on the bed before he could even take his pants off, crawling on top of him He straddled his husband, peering down at him from under pale lashes, a smile playing on his lips, ‘’let’s not start caring about each other now, hm?’’

 _Cold hearted bastard. I’ll find out what you’re up to,_ Nym thought, gritting his teeth and grabbing Aza’s hips. Aza grabbed his wrists in response, pulling his hands off.

‘’Don’t get rough with me,’’ he said teasingly, ‘’we both know you have no idea what you’re doing.’’ Nym glared at him and flipped them over, pinning Aza under him. It was infuriating when Aza didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, grinning up at Nym, ‘’oh~ what’s this?’’ Aza managed before Nym leaned down and kissed him harshly. They hadn’t kissed in a while – not since their wedding night, but it wasn’t a loving kiss. Nym grunted when Aza bit down on his bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, but he didn’t break the kiss. He swept his tongue into Azariah’s mouth, taking control as he ground his hips between his legs. He heard Aza sigh against his lips, his hips bucking upwards, seeking release. Nym broke the kiss, a little confused. Was Azariah pent up? Did that mean he didn’t actually have another love? Nym bent down and kissed his jaw, gentler this time. He felt the roughness of unseen stubble there, ‘’stay tonight,’’ he whispered against Aza’s skin.

Aza’s hand slid into Nym’s auburn locks, tugging playfully and for a heartbeat, Nym thought that his husband might agree. But Azariah just said, ‘’as if. Just get on with it; I have things to do.’’

Nym didn’t know why, but he pulled back and placed a gentle hand on Aza’s cheek, ‘’please,’’ he murmured. In a different moment, his pride and arrogance wouldn’t have allowed him to utter that word. But right then he felt vulnerable and confused and, honestly, a little bit fed up. Aza was beautiful and elusive and bright as a star, and even if he irritated Nym every day, there was a part of the bandit that wanted Aza to be with him, properly. He’d be crazy if there weren’t. There likely wasn’t a single person in the world who wouldn’t want to have Azariah in their lives upon meeting him, as a friend, lover… Azariah, for the first time, stared up at Nym with wide, shocked eyes.

‘’Please…’’ Nym murmured again, dipping his head to kiss his husband.

He was met with a firm hand on his chest, pushing him back. The surprise had gone out of Aza’s eyes, replaced by a strange coldness, ‘’I’m not in the mood anymore,’’ he said, sounding aloof.

Nym blanched, ‘’what?’’

Azariah stood and swiped his tunic off the floor, ‘’you heard.’’

Nym jumped off the bed and grabbed Aza’s wrist, whirling him around to face him, ‘’you’re kidding me! I didn’t know basic manners set you off so much.’’

‘’It’s not that,’’ Aza shrugged him off as if he was a fly as he fixed his clothes, ‘’I’ve just grown tired of looking at your face.’’

‘’You little shit!’’ Nym’s patience snapped. He grabbed Aza’s wrist again and shoved him back, into the nearest wall, pinning his wrists against the rock. His dark eyes flashed with all the thunder that rolled over the Moher Mountains in spring, ‘’I am your husband and you _will_ obey me!’’

An amused smirk danced on Aza’s lips, unthreatened by anything Nym could possibly say, but his blue eyes were cold, full of warning and…worry? ‘’or what?’’ Azariah said lightly. Nym blanched. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. But he couldn’t let Aza see his indecisiveness or he’d win. He kissed his teeth, pushing Aza’s wrists against the rock harshly in a ‘stay there’ gesture before kneeling down before him, ‘’what are you doing?’’ if nothing else, Aza at least sounded curious.

‘’Shut up,’’ Nym undid the ribbon Aza tied his leather belt into and slid his loose pants off. He was limp and uninterested, as always, but Nym grabbed him at the base and took him into his mouth. He’d never done this properly but he’d had it done at the brothels on the Eastern coast. He was even more determined to succeed when Azariah laughed.

‘’Aw, that’s sweet of you but I doubt you’re any better at this than you are at all the other- ah! Hey!’’ Aza jumped as if hit by lightning when Nym grazed his teeth dangerously over the head of his cock. The Kåvieh-Dah’s hands instantly went to Nym’s shoulders, ready to shove him away.

Nym pulled back with a plop and mustered a smirk of his own, ‘’careful now.’’

‘’Or, what?’’ Azariah grinned but it was more like a pissed off grimace. Finally, some real emotion, ‘’you’ll bite my dick off?’’

‘’I’m sure there’s much more pleasant ways in which I could get you to apologise,’’ Nym was, quite frankly, talking out of his ass. He had no skill to back his words up and they both knew that if Azariah truly wanted to get out of this room, he’d do it in thirty seconds flat. And it wouldn’t end well for Nym. The bandit dipped his head and took his husband in his mouth again, as far as he could, till he felt him brush the back of his throat. It was much more difficult than Nym thought but he was enthusiastic and fast, unrelenting. To his utmost shock, after a few minutes, Aza’s breath grew ragged and, after a few more, his fingers curled against Nym’s shoulders. Nym desperately wanted to hear Azariah’s moans but when he finally – _finally_ – came, it was with a quiet, high grunt, a tremble of his legs and nothing else. His hands loosened against Nym’s shoulders, then withdrew as the bandit sat back on his heels, stunned, the taste of his husband lingering in his throat.

Azariah stuffed himself back in his trousers and swept down to kneel in front of Nym in one elegant gesture. In his eyes, there was a glimmer of care as he reached out and brushed his thumb against the corner of Nym’s mouth, where a droplet of his seed clung. For once, he wasn’t smiling. He leaned in, slowly, and rested his forehead against Nym’s, their mouths so close that their breaths mingled, ‘’I’m never going to spend the night with you,’’ Aza whispered softly, ‘’not now, not ever, no matter what you do. So you don’t have to trouble yourself with doing that again.’’

Then he rose, as gracefully as he had knelt, and made for the doors, swiping his helmet off the windowsill.

Still a little stunned, Nym hurried after him, heart aching. Because he still didn’t know the reason why, but Azariah’s words had hurt, just as he’d been scared they would. Nym knew that he was pretty ordinary, especially compared to Aza, and it wasn’t like he was in love with the boy so why…

He ran after Aza and caught his hand, just as the Kåvieh-Dah opened the doors with the other. Aza sent him a questioning look over his shoulder just as Nym choked out, ‘’ _why_?’’

Aza slipped his hand from Nym’s. He did so gently. A courtesy, ‘’it is just the way things are,’’ he said and left.

Nym stared at the doors with wide eyes, watching them shut. He couldn’t quite believe this. Slowly, he fisted his hands, remembering what his friends had advised him. He was getting to the bottom of it, no matter what it meant for his new – and so far catastrophically – marriage.

He grabbed his cloak and, discreetly, followed Azariah out of the bandit caves.

*~*~*

Gaufrid may have been the chief of the village but his house was just as small and painted as the other houses in Olwen. Now that Fae was awake and not in any grave danger, he didn’t want to take up someone else’s bed. He confidently insisted that he could sleep in front of the fireplace – right until he realised that Thorn had offered to do the same. Now, late into the night, everyone was asleep and Faelan couldn’t come up with any excuses to stay the hell away from his fiancé. His head was starting to hurt a little. It had been an eventful day and he was longing for sleep so eventually, he wandered over to the fireplace where Thorn was washing himself. Brynhild Chariovalda, a stern looking woman and Gaufrid’s wife, had fetched them blankets and sheep-wool throws that they set out in two beddings in front of the merrily buzzing fireplace. There was nothing Fae wanted to do more than grab his share and drag it over to the opposite end of the living space, but he knew that would just make him look foolish and child-like. No, he’d just have to bare it and go to sleep. He went for his bedding.

‘’Good thing the Chariovaldas’ don’t know we’re royalty,’’ Thorn said in a quiet but conversational voice as Fae crawled onto his blankets, ‘’else they’d never agree for us to sleep on the floor.’’

Fae shrugged. He didn’t particularly feel like talking, especially since their last talk hadn’t gone particularly well – and it ended with a shipwreck, ‘’speak for yourself. All Arhanese children grow up in war camps. This,’’ he patted the sturdy pillow he’d been given, ‘’would be a luxury there.’’

Thorn quirked an eyebrow. He’d been dipping a cloth into a pail of water provided for them and wiping his neck. Now, he pulled off the foreign shirt he’d been given over his head and dabbed at a perfectly muscled chest. Faelan looked away, ‘’this isn’t Arnheim, though.’’

‘’Of course it is,’’ Fae said, a little sharply. It was true that his father, King Daran, didn’t like to think of northern Arnheim as Yame and he got irritated – or even angry – if anyone else did so. Airen had spent most of Fae’s youth knocking it into the heads of him and his siblings – it wasn’t Yame anymore. Yame didn’t exist. They were not half Yamese; they were all Arhanese. The times when Yame existed had been dark and full of bloodshed. There was no point in reminiscing it.

‘’It used to be Yame, right?’’ Thorn said, so casually Fae wanted to grab him by his dark hair and stick his head in the fireplace, ‘’this place doesn’t feel like Arnheim. I mean, they paint their buildings and-‘’

‘’Enough,’’ Fae snapped and Thorn gave him a surprised look, ‘’if you don’t know our history then don’t presume to speak of it.’’

‘’I was just saying that this place feel a little different, that’s all,’’ he said, a little defensively.

Fae sighed. The whole ordeal left him feeling tired and tired meant weakened. He needed to gather his strength, ‘’I’m sure the north of Kainan is different to the south, too. And I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough,’’ he added bitterly under his nose.

Thorn was quiet for a moment and Fae wondered if he’d heard the last bit. He lay down and Thorn finally spoke, ‘’it is different,’’ there was quiet fondness in his voice. He spoke and washed himself, ‘’the North is cold, not quite like Arnheim, but similar enough. Barely anything grows there. It’s all ports and cold, hard land and weathered people. The fortress that stands in Aldhard was once believed the mark the end of the world. It had weathered many battles and withstood many sieges, even that of my great grand-uncle. Now, no human may set foot there because the plague rages within, and the witches rule those cities now.’’

‘’Huh,’’ Fae stared at the painted ceiling and the shadows cast by the flames, ‘’that doesn’t sound too bad.’’

He could hear the smile in Thorn’s voice, ‘’and to the South is Yarah, a beautiful, rich city overlooking the sea. It is said it looks like a gem to all those who approach from that direction. And there’s also the Moher Mountains, which hold the bandits that have stolen princes from their beds, battled pirates and tricked witches.’’

‘’Right, I’m sure they have,’’ Fae snorted but he was getting sleepy, and sleepiness was making him curious, ‘’what about the East? What’s there?’’

‘’The East…’’ Thorn pretended to think about it, dropping his cloth in the water pail, ‘’there are many port cities and Mystic.’’

‘’Mystic?’’ Fae didn’t want to ask but it snagged his attention.

‘’The rumoured city of witches, although it is quite real, considering the Witchlands themselves exist and thrive. Mystic isn’t visible to us mere mortals; only witches may enter it. That’s where fae witches, faeries, pixies and all sorts of creatures are born.’’

Fae couldn’t help it. He sat up, bracing himself on his elbow and looking at Thorn, ‘’you’re fooling about, aren’t you?’’

‘’Course not,’’ Thorn gave him a toothy grin, ‘’doesn’t Arnheim have any witches left?’’

‘’We do but…’’ Fae shrugged, ‘’not, like…special kinds.’’

Thorn’s smile softened, ‘’maybe you’ll get to meet some when you come to Kainan.’’

Faelan huffed and dropped himself back on his bedding, ‘’whatever. What’s to the west, then, your highness?’’

Thorn’s mood soured a little, ‘’ah…west is Solin. We’re…not on the best terms with them, currently.’’

Fae frowned, ‘’why?’’

‘’Well…the King there used to be Edgar Eiris, nearly two decades ago. But then-‘’

‘’You got invaded,’’ Fae guessed, ‘’again,’’ he added. Edgar Eiris was a very, very distant relative; his great-grandfather’s nephew or something. Faelan wasn’t particularly interested in a branch of the Eiris house that was weak enough to lose the throne, ‘’haven’t you dealt with that invader yet?’’

‘’King Fengor? No, he and Solin are like the Witchlands now – they do their own thing,’’ Thorn sighed and rubbed his face, ‘’I don’t even want to think about it. It’s just more things to worry about when I am King.’’

It seemed that five minutes couldn’t pass before Fae was reminded of his impending marriage to this man. He rolled over onto his side and pretended to sleep, but there was one more question that wasn’t letting him rest. Finally, he gave up and asked, quietly, ‘’why did you tie us together?’’

He half-hoped Thorn would be asleep by now, but the Prince replied instantly, ‘’I didn’t want you to drown.’’

‘’You could have drowned with me.’’

Thorn didn’t reply and Fae jumped when, a moment later, he was there, kneeling behind him and pressing fingers to his cut. The rope had dug into his shoulder, splitting skin, but it had been dealt with by the women of Olen. It was covered in an ointment and bandaged up, ‘’does it hurt?’’ Thorn whispered. His fingers were warm.

Fae shrugged him off, ‘’no. I’m not weak, like you. And, for the record, I don’t need saving, ever.’’

Thorn huffed, ‘’a simple ‘thank you’ would suffice, you prick,’’ he said.

Faelan gasped and sat up, offended and ready to challenge Thorn to a duel but the other prince had already sauntered off to his bedding. He laid down, his back to Fae, sulking. Fae grumbled a couple choice words in his direction and laid back down to sleep.

*~*~*

Sharian took a step back from the tiny metal oven in the hut and wrung his hands out nervously. He was anxious as the seven hells again, because Jhaan was suspecting something and now Dain Yahren had been arrested and Jasim fucking Shaed was breathing down his neck and-

The doors to his home opened so violently Sharian nearly jumped out of his skin but it was only Jhaan, returned from the tavern much earlier than usual. Sharian gave him a quick, unconvincing smile, trying to compose himself, ‘’I-I baked-‘’

Sharian inhaled sharply, when Jhaan stormed up to him and grabbed him. In the next instance, Sharian found himself lifted up and pressed against the wall. His legs automatically went around Jhaan’s hips to keep himself up, ‘’J-Jhaan, what-‘’

Jhaan leaned in and kissed him, harshly. Sharian gasped against his mouth, feeling the press of Jhaan’s piercing against his bottom lip, then the brush of his tongue. He parted his lips for his husband, reminding himself he had to be good – he had to be perfect. He needed Jhaan on his side, completely, especially now… Sharian wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him back, getting over his shock. Jhaan wasn’t gentle – he practically ripped Sharian’s clothes off, then managed to only impatiently pull his hardening out of his pants, ‘’a-are you drunk?’’ Sharian asked between kisses.

‘’No. I just want you,’’ Jhaan breathed hotly against his neck, kissing hard enough to bruise as he pushed himself inside Sharian. It hurt for a split second – then came the heat, and then the pleasure. Sharian whimpered, his muscles going completely limp but Sharian had no problem holding him up against the wall. He started thrusting almost immediately, harsh, driving Sharian up against the wall and Sharian fretted. This was new behaviour.

He buried his face in Jhaan’s shoulder, the sensation of having him inside him making his head go a bit woozy, ‘’a-are you…angry a-at me?’’ he managed.

Jhaan slowed, ‘’no,’’ he panted, ‘’no, why would you…?’’ he slowed even more and Sharian gripped his neck tighter.

‘’It’s okay, you don’t…you don’t have to slow down,’’ Sharian managed, his breathing ragged and uneven. He pulled back to kiss his husband, holding onto his neck, ‘’fuck me…’’ he whispered against Jhaan’s lips and that was all it took. Sharian moaned and whimpered against his shoulder, one hand tangled into his sandy hair, as Jhaan fucked him against the wall till they both came.

Slowly, Jhaan lowered his naked husband to the floor, crouching over him as if he could hide him from everything bad and ugly in the world. Looking up at him, spent and still in protective mode, made Sharian’s heart flutter. He felt fondness for him that he hadn’t felt before, especially when Jhaan looked him in the eye and said, ‘’I trust you,’’ with utmost confidence. Then, he reached out and cupped Sharian’s cheek with a rough hand, ‘’and I promise I won’t leave you. Ever.’’

Sharian felt relief flood him like a flood, followed by guilt. Jhaan’s trust was a lie because it was built on one. He didn’t know who Sharian really was. He trusted a fraud. But, at least for now, Sharian was safe.

He turned his head and nuzzled his face into Jhaan’s calloused palm, ‘’thank you,’’ he whispered, and he meant it.

*~*~*

A thunder clap, loud as a war cannon (or what Elisen thought a war cannon sounded like), woke the young witch from his nap. He sat up, gasping, his heart jumping in his chest at the unexpected noise. His hair was loose, falling in white waves down his back. He looked towards the window. He’d left it open, despite the chill. Outside, over the grey landscape, an autumn storm was brewing. Heavy clouds, threatening to spill rain at any second, stretched over the sky. It was much darker than it was meant to be and the sky was cut across with fiery veins of thunderbolts every once in a while. Frightened, Elisen hurried to the window. Usually storms didn’t scare him but he didn’t like being jerked awake. He had a lingering feeling that he’d been woken up from a nightmare. He grabbed the edges of the wooden shutters just as a petrified, high chirping reached his ears. A small flock of birds, half a dozen of the things at most, were heading towards the tower, trying to escape the thunderstorm.

‘’Here! Over here!’’ Elisen called before he could stop himself, pushing the shutters wide open and stepping aside just as the birds fluttered inside. They instantly bounced off walls and the flowery canopy still blooming over the bed. Elisen winced, realising his mistake. He just let a bunch of panicked birds into his tower. He was about to usher them out when, like a slap across the face, the skies broke open and rain hit the world. There was no way the birds were going back there. Elisen winced again and tried to placate the creatures, but they clearly didn’t speak common. They didn’t speak anything. They were birds. Elisen tried to usher them towards the flowery canopy, where they could nestle for the time being, but the guiding movements of his arms and his loud words only scared them more. Finally, fed up and a little worried Vaeril would get mad if the birds shat everywhere, Elisen whistled, low and clear.

As if by the click of his fingers, the birds calmed. They sat wherever they could, looking at Elisen with beady eyes; Elisen blinked, staring back in shock, ‘’really? That’s all it took? A whistle?’’ he frowned and whistled again. The birds cocked their heads to the side, as if listening. He had no idea what kind of birds they were – just that they were small and blue and in need of protection. Slowly, curious, he whistled again, imagining the sound curving across the room, round each of the birds, and guiding them towards the canopy.

It was as if he’d scooped them up himself between cupped hands. They fluttered to where he wanted them to be and nestled between the flowers.

Elisen gasped, ‘’no way!’’ he ran for his books, wanting to check if it was possible for Elementalist witches to cast spells by whistling when he heard the whole tower groan. The mechanisms in the walls moved with a clink. Vaeril was home.

‘’Oops,’’ Eli glanced over the birds and whistled, imagining the sound curling downstairs. Nothing happened. He took a deep breath, trying not to panic, and whistled again. Vae didn’t like anything getting in the tower. He was wildly overprotective and he wouldn’t take kindly to the birds, but Eli wasn’t heartless. He couldn’t just chase them out into the rain.

He whistled again and this time, it worked. In uniform, the birds flew through the open door, down the corridor and down the stairs to the training room. Elisen hoped they wouldn’t cause much of a ruckus down there. A moment later, Vaeril walked in.

‘’You’re sopping wet!’’ Elisen cried, running over and tugging Vae’s drenched cape off him.

Vae looked irritated, ‘’I got caught in the downpour. Goddamned autumn storms,’’ he let Eli take his cape but that was when Elisen ran out of ideas. He looked around, chewing the inside of his cheek and wondering where to put it. Vae plucked it from his hands, ‘’here,’’ he tossed the cape in the air, spraying droplets. It hung where he’d tossed it, suspended in the air to dry. Eli didn’t know what kind of spell that was, ‘’you should know that spell by now. You’ve not been studying again. I can tell,’’ he shook out his black curls and then gave Eli a stern look.

Elisen shifted from one foot to the other. Definitely not a good idea to tell him about the birds, ‘’I-I have-‘’

‘’Don’t lie to me, Elisen. Not you,’’ Vae said adamantly, walking past him as if he didn’t exist. He clicked his fingers and the clothes he was wearing dried in an instant, ‘’do you still have any food left? Or did you eat it all? I completely forgot to get you supplies.’’

‘’I’m fine. I can always grow myself something,’’ Elisen followed him like a lost duckling. They went into Elisen’s bedroom and Vae raised an eyebrow at the dusty magic books.

‘’Sure, a cherry tomato, maybe. Have you even picked up a book since I left?’’ he demanded.

‘’I was about to-‘’

‘’You’re always about to,’’ Vae gave him a critical look. And then the look fell away, replaced by surprise when Elisen stepped up to him and wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing his cheek against Vae’s chest. Vaeril stiffened a little, ‘’this is…new.’’

‘’Why are you so angry?’’ Elisen mumbled, closing his eyes. Vae was very warm, ‘’it can’t be just because of my studies and the rain.’’

Vae sighed, relaxing into Elisen’s arms. Slowly, he wrapped his own around the younger witch, ‘’it’s just tough. Out there. If I could, I’d just stay here with you and never leave,’’ finally, a half-smile.

Elisen tilted his head back to look at him and smiled softly, too, ‘’then stay.’’

‘’And, what? Live off whatever you manage to grow, munchkin? I don’t think so,’’ he took a strand of Eli’s pure white hair and twirled it around his finger, ‘’no, I need to go out there and make sure that you’re safe and protected,’’ he winded the strand around his finger, then let it go. He brushed his knuckles against Eli’s cheek, ‘’since you learned how to braid your own hair, you barely ever wear it out. It suits you.’’

Elisen gave him a cheeky grin, ‘’are you saying I’m pretty?’’

Vae scoffed, pushing him away gently, ‘’I’m saying it suits you.’’

Eli came right back, keeping his arms around Vae’s waist. Vae was about to ask what he wanted when Elisen stood on his tiptoes and pressed their lips together. It was a brief, soft kiss. Vae blinked, surprised, as Elisen stepped back, looking uncertain. He looked like some kind of fairytale elf, with hair like snow and the face of an angel. Vae pulled him back into his arms before he could talk himself out of it, ‘’brat,’’ he murmured and kissed him. Eli instantly leaned into him, as if he’d been waiting for just this. He cupped Vae’s face and kissed him back, clumsily and eagerly but warmly, too. In that moment Vae really did wish he could stay here with Elisen forever.

They pulled apart and Vae rested his forehead against Elisen’s, taking a deep breath, ‘’let me fix you something to eat,’’ he murmured, ‘’I can’t stay long. I just wanted to check up on you,’’ he stroked a hand down his hair.

‘’Vae,’’ Elisen said softly, ‘’you go out there too much.’’

Vae gave him a dry smile, ‘’one of us has to.’’

Elisen bit his lip, ‘’we both could.’’

Vae groaned and pulled away, ‘’don’t start, Elisen. You know what I’m going to say. Read your books, study magic, get stronger and I’ll consider it. Till then, you’ll just slow me down.’’

‘’I’m stronger than you think,’’ Elisen said stubbornly, making up his mind. He grabbed Vae’s hand, ‘’come with me.’’

Vae let his pupil pull him into the corridor and downstairs, to the training arena. He frowned when they entered, ‘’what’s this?’’

On the first of the series of walls making up the labyrinth sat six bluebirds, looking at them enter curiously. When Vae walked in, they scattered with a twitter, ‘’what’s all this?’’

‘’They’re my friends,’’ Elisen said excitedly, taking a few steps towards the labyrinth, ‘’I think…I think I’m way more powerful than we think I am. I asked the birds to come down here, and they did!’’

Vae gave him a look, ‘’Elisen, you can’t talk to animals.’’

‘’Well, maybe not but…look, just let me show you!’’ he whistled, imagining the direction he wanted the birds to go in like a fluid ribbon, curling through the air. For a moment, he worried he’d just made himself believe he’d done the spell correctly, but then the scattered birds cam together, fluttering a few feet above Vae’s head like a crown. Elisen grinned, ‘’see?’’

‘’Congratulations, you can control a few birds,’’ Vae looked up cautiously at them.

‘’I thought it could be useful,’’ Eli supplied eagerly, ‘’we can use them as scouts, out there. And in time, maybe I can control bigger animals-‘’

‘’You’re not going out there, Elisen.’’

Eli’s face fell and he walked up to Vae, grabbing his hand, ‘’why not? Vae, I can help. I’m old and strong enough, you don’t have to keep going out there alone-‘’

Vae yanked his hand free, ‘’you don’t understand anything. You’re just a child-‘’

‘’Please, just let me prove myself-‘’

‘’You’ll go when I think you’re ready!’’

‘’But you’ll _never_ think I’m ready!’’

It happened in a flash.

Vaeril threw his arm wide and the air sparked.

A second later, there were six dead birds on the ground, smoking faintly.

Eli felt as if a hand had closed around his throat and choked him. He stared in disbelief at the six dead animals, then raised his gaze to Vae, who was breathing hard. He was pissed off. Elisen felt like he couldn’t move, even when Vae grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, ‘’you don’t know anything, Elisen!’’ he shouted again, ‘’if you studied like I told you, you’d know what a foolish thing it is to let outside creatures in here! _They_ could be witchunters scouts or diseased beasts or things that could hurt you!’’

‘’T-they’re just birds,’’ Elisen’s eyes filled with tears. He tried to take a step back but Vae held him firmly in place.

‘’You don’t know that, Eli! You’ve never been outside and how can I let you go out there when you’re so naïve! And what would anyone say when you turn-’’ he cut off sharply, realising he’d said too much. His hands loosened on Elisen’s shoulders.

Eli stared at him, wide-eyed, ‘’when I turn, what? Into my wolf form?’’

Vaeril looked like he was kicking himself in the ass, ‘’I didn’t mean it like that.’’

‘’No, you meant it like that,’’ Eli felt the first tear run down his face and Vae’s anger crumpled, replaced by regret and apology. Elisen shoved him off, ‘’you meant to say that I’m too stupid and naïve to go out there, that I’ll only get both of us killed and even if we manage to fix the world, people will think I’m a monster anyway!’’

‘’No,’’ Vaeril took a step towards him and Elisen took a step back, ‘’you’re putting words in my mouth. I didn’t say that-‘’

‘’Is that why you’re actually keeping me in here?’’ more tears dripped down Elisen’s face. He was so goddamn lonely that he’d been happy to make friends with brainless birds, but Vae had killed them all and now Eli didn’t even want to be in the same room as him, no matter how lonely he was, ‘’because you’re ashamed of me?’’

‘’How could you even say that!?’’

Elisen wiped at his tears violently, upset and ashamed that he got emotional so quickly, ‘’just go.’’

‘’Eli-‘’

‘’Get out of my tower!’’ Elisen yelled. The ground rumbled and cracked. A few vines sprouted and wrapped around Vae’s ankle.

Vae’s kissed his teeth and threw them off. They retreated quickly as if he’d frightened them off, ‘’it’s _our_ tower-‘’

‘’No, it’s _mine_!’’ the tears kept coming and Eli just wanted to throw himself on his bed and sob. He glanced at the dead birds and it only made the tears come faster, ‘’I’m the one whose locked up here, alone all day, not allowed to step foot outside! So _get_! _Out_!’’

Vaeril looked like he wanted to argue. Then, he looked like he wanted to go to Eli and take him into his arms. But Elisen ran past him and sprinted up his stairs, to his bedroom. He slammed the doors shut, then did the same with the windows, blocking out the brewing storm. He threw himself onto his bed and cried, trying to muffle the sobs to no avail.

Vae didn’t come in, though Eli knew he wanted to. After a long while, the tower groaned and Vaeril was gone.

*~*~*

Vae hurried outside, into the rain, without his cloak. He didn’t care. He raked his hands through his hair, now wet again, and then turned to look at Elisen’s tower. He knew Eli was still curled up on his bed, crying. He desperately wanted to go in and comfort him but he knew he’d royally fucked up. Only Elisen made him so paranoid. Eli was the only person whom Vae would go out of his mind to protect and take care of. How could he want to go out into the world? It was cruel and hateful and dark and miserable and dangerous. He couldn’t have Eli out here, not now, not ever.

He had to think of a way to make sure Elisen never wanted to leave the tower again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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